Sunday, September 25, 2005

Hamburger Dreams

For the past 2 nights I have been dreaming about hamburgers. I don't usually eat red meat but....I broke down and went to the store and bought some yesterday. Made myself a burger and it was great. Maybe I'm iron deficient or something. Today I was craving another....so I had one.
I've been trying to lose some weight so I'm sure that won't help but maybe I'll just have to make an extra lap around the lake today.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Pissed off about EVERYTHING

Lately I have come in contact with a couple people who are just constantly mad about something. In my dealings with them I realized that it's easy to fall into the maddness of being mad about petty things and then carrying around that baggage and putting it on other people. Ridiculous!

There is this kid I know and he thinks he knows everything. He's about 21 years old so you know where he's at. I don't think I have ever heard him say anything nice. He is constantly telling people how dumb they are and that they are wrong...and that he is right....and it's always in a defensive or abrasive tone. It makes me wonder how this kid even has any friends.

Anyone outside his circle of friends is a NOBODY to him.

It makes me wonder what his everyday life is actually like. It must be absolutely miserable. Constantly mad or annoyed by someone. Always believing that he's right and that everyone else on the face of the planet is a complete idiot. What a lonely and depressing world.

I hope that he figure it out soon and sees that life is what you make it. And if you don't believe in other people, you don't really believe in yourself. There's so much negativity around us on a daily basis....why create more? What's the point?

Maybe he had a bad childhood and just hasn't gotten over it....but I read something the other day - can't remember where - it said, "You had a bad childhood but now it's over." I thought to myself, "yeah." for real. It's over so move on up and out of that black cloud. It's over. Just keep telling yourself that and maybe you'll believe it one of these days.

------

Today I ran into a guy at the grocery store. I didn't recognize him at first but I had actually gone on one date with him about a year ago. He was at the pay phone. I smiled a said hello when he spoke and then I just kept walking inside. It didn't dawn on me yet who he was.

But of course, on my way out I see him again. Actually he came into my line and walked in front of other people acting as if he was with me. I paid for my things. Then he paid for his while asking me why I never called him, and things like, "I thought we had a good time." etc. He was obviously hurt by my not calling him. I also noticed that his button down shirt was buttoned wrong and I could have been nice and told him so but I thought, nahhhh...

So, let me tell you what happened on the "date". We went to the Mall of America (not my top of the list date place). he was hungry so I told him how to get to Dixie's in St Paul. He had never been there and actually acted scared to go to a place he had never been. He asted weird almost the whole time we were there but was pleasantly suprised with the food. For about 10 minutes he stood outside (me, inside) and talked on his phone. Then he came back in. We split the bill and left. Then we stopped at 2 different houses where I got to stay in the car while he went in and was gone for 15-20 minutes both times. I had somewhere to be in the evening so I asked if he would take me home. He said he didn't want me to leave. I told him that I would call him when I was done, to appease him. I wasn't going to call. I wanted to escape. I felt like a prisoner because he kept saying he didn't want to take me home. But, he did. Before he took me he reached over and grabbed my head and gave me an UNWANTED kiss. I pulled away - and told him that I didn't want to kiss him. He tried again. I just about flipped on him. I said, "you don't TAKE a kiss from someone." He didn't get it....at all. Like he deserved what he wanted. Finally, he brought me home but I was a little scared the whole way and I was regretting that fact that he knew where I lived.

I didn't call him that night. And I don't think that he called me either but I can't remember.

So - back to the store. I stood outside and talked to him for about 5 minutes. The whole time he was asking why I didn't call him. I told him he was too agressive and replayed the kissing scene. What do you know, he still didn't get it. Then he kept asking hypothetical questions like, "if I wouldn't have done that do you think we would be together?"

He asked for my number. I said no. He asked if he could give me his. I said no. (this is the typical, can't take NO for an answer)He said why. I told him I was seeing someone. As I was saying this he began talking to himself about the magazine he had. Then he proceeds to tell me that it looks like I've gained weight. (I've lost weight) and then says some remark about the "person I'm seeing" - 2 Nice little jabs at me because I wouldn't give this idiot my freaking number. Then he just started to walk away. My guess is that he wanted me to follow him. HAHAHAHAAAA! I walked to my car and smiled to myself. Thank god I got away from that creep. I would like to meet his mother and see if she knows that her son doesn't know a thing about chivalry, kindness or simple respect. Does she know her son is possessive, agressive and completely inept? Probably not.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Write with the moon. Right with the moon. Rite with the moon.

Desdamona 2004


When the moon is full I write with invisible ink
It slides down my page onto my legs
Invades my private space
Leaving traces of ink to sink into my lunar legacy

Words capture me like winged freedom inside a butterfly net
Bitter sweet captivity
Words
The only things that still me
Sooth me
Cure me
Kill me

My wings powdered delicately
Laced with my dangerous emancipation
If I could truly be all I was meant to be
You just wouldn’t believe

When the moon is at three quarters
Life seems shorter
A cup almost full of water
Minus one swallow
Swallow sings on sultry, slippery seams
Of what is and what used to be me
Song bird sing to me

While the moon is but a sliver
A sharp slice of peace
I feel empty
Darkness invading my privacy
Moon always watching me


And while the moon is fraternizing with her midnight sky
My eyes open wide to see if I might find some of her secrets
She twists the tides and turns them into seasons
Each wave
One of her reasons for being

And me and my body of water is imprisoned gracefully by her gravity
She can only confine but never truly capture me
She births and nurtures me
Buildings burdens to flirt with me and my capacity to endure

She is pure divinity
Placed in my sight to remind me
That she will remain here long after I leave
A mother
So inclined to outlive her offspring
A mother so divine she will outlive her offspring

Thursday, September 22, 2005

When the wind blows....

I've been walking around the lake every day since Labor day and I have to say that it is so refreshing. The weather has been great and even on the cooler days the sun is still shining. This is my favorite time of year. While other Minnesotans have a dark cloud over their heads and they are complaining about their impending doom, I am simply happy with the whole thing. The air smells great and we get a little bit of everything. Sun, rain, wind, cool, warm, great sunsets. How could anyone complain? Yes, winter is coming but the past few years have been fairly mild. I like winter anyway.

Yesterday at First Avenue I performed for the 25th Annual MN Music Awards. I played with some friends of mine, The New Congress. It was a great night! I won an award for "best spoken word artist" but I didn't win the other 3 I was nominated for. It doesn't even matter because the best part of the night was being able to perform. I can't even begin to explain how much fun it was and from the looks of it, the crowd was lovin' it too. I had my friend Nikki dance to the introduction so she got everybody into it. fabulous! While this was all going on there was a storm raging outside. I think that a tornado touched down some where near Minneapolis. But, I missed it all because I was at the awards.

This morning I got up and went to walk around the lake and I got to see what the storm had left behind. There were branches and twigs every where, strewn across the grass. It kind of looked like maybe the trees got into a little scuff and lost their cool along with some limbs and leaves. On my walk through this earthly cemetary of broken trees there was a steady wind pushing itself across the lake, rattling the leaves that managed to hold tight to their owners. There is always a wind around the lake but today it was stronger than normal. Everytime the wind kicks in I can't help but smile and sometimes I laugh because of it's force. I can't believe that something so invisible can be so strong. It's just amazing to me and I love it...the way it sounds and the way it feels.

When I perform I kind of go to a different place and it all comes out of me. I don't really pay attention to what I'm doing....I just do it. I hope that I create that wind when people are listening to me.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Drunk Boys

Tonight I had a show at the Dunkytowner. For those who don't know, the Dinytowner is a bar in Dinkytown, which is part of the U of M campus. So, as we all know....campus equals drunk college kids. Or girls sitting at the door of the bar in front of a trash can, leaned over, on her way to passing out. Yes, that really happened.

So, in this scenario I do feel a little old and sometimes out of place. I have never drank in my life. Never been drunk or anything. Seeing people totally out of control makes me worried about them and their safty, even when I don't know them. But that's not what I want to write about.

Here it is: I am at the merch table before I go on for my set. I'm just sitting there minding my own business. A few people come and talk to me. Everything is cool. Then a young man comes and sits on the other side of the table with a few friends. This is normal because it's where all the merchandise is so, random people sit at the table.

One of the guys on the other side says, "How'd you get those?" and I said, "What?" and here said, "Those things in your hair." (those things in my hair were rubberbands) So I tell the guy I put them in my hair and he acted astonished that I did it myself (ok, the dude is drunk). Then he gets up out of his chair and comes over to me. He comes in real close and says, "You have beautiful breasts and beautiful hair." Then he slides his hand down my back onto my ass!!!!!! I move his hand and don't say anything. He says something else to me but I don't hear him. "What?" and he says he doesn't remember. So, I say, "Well, I'm about to perform..." - in an attempt to get him to set back a little. He says, "Is that a sign for me to back off? I think that's a sign for me to back off." And he stumbled his way back to the other side.

I saw him try to talk to about 3 other girls. This guy was so drunk he couldn't even act normal, stand up or even sit down without his chin dropping like he was asleep. Normally, I might be offended by what he said but I know that he was totally out of control and bad judgment in the form of alcohol had clouded his faculties to the point where I just felt sorry for the dude and tried to imagine him sober. Was he an asshole when he was sober? Or a nice guy? Hmmm, hard to tell. But one thing I do know is that he's going to have a rough time tomorrow and he won't remember anything he did tonight.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

The other day....

I got an email from someone praising my work as an artist. They then proceeded to ask me to be involved in an event to raise awareness and funds for an organization that shall remain nameless. These kinds of emails are pretty typical in my life. I have done many benefits and fundraisers for many different non-profits and arts organizations.

Their request was that I host an event and I would also perform bewteen acts. Now, hosting is a J.O.B. which is probably why they asked me to do it. It ain't easy and I'll be honest and say that most of the time it really ain't all that much fun. It's work! I host an open mic every week and sometimes it can be the most annoying night. And then sometimes it can be fabulous. So, when people request this of me I have to take this into consideration.

I recently decided that if people want me to host and since it is a larger responsibility than a 15-30 minute performance (which is something that I love to do, by the way), then I would have to charge for hosting. I will perform for free for a cause that I believe in or an organization that is really doing something important.

I do respect the organization that requested my talent but I have to admit that when I responded to their request saying that I would perform for free but if they wanted me to host, I would need to be compensated - and they responded back, I have to approve it with the commitee - In my mind I was like, didn't you already want me to perform? But I guess they didn't. They wanted me to host. The performance they suggested was just to appease me. I need money to appease me. geez!

I know that it wasn't their intention to disrespect me - but this is typical treatment of an artist. Our real skills are not valued the way that they should be (even by our selves). People don't understand that some of us do this for a living. We're not just doing it for fun. It's out livelihood. Even an offering of $20 would be welcome by us. It's our time, our hearts, our talents, and our selves we're giving. Isn't that worth something?

It is to me. And this is really all I have.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

One more thing to fear

Anybody see, “The Next Big One” on abc? Just curious because I caught some of it.

It was basically a show intructing you what to do if there were a nuclear bomb dropped in your city. Things like, take a shower to wash off the radiation right away. Duct tape and plastic windows, etc....and Goto a room closed from the outside. Don't get in your car....Stuff like that.

Well, I'm sure those are all great things to know if something like that were to happen. But something in me feels like the whole thing is just another way to keep us fearful about the possibility of terrorism. It is good to be prepared but there are certain things that you can never prepare yourself for.

I do hope to live a long and happy life but when it is my time to go – it is my time. And hopefully nothing like this will happen in our lifetime or our childrens. It would be a terrible tragedy. And I hope that it would lead us (all of the world) to finally learn that these weapons and wars are not the answers to our problems. They only cause more problems, more destruction, more death, more war, more hate. And what good are any of things?

I don't want to sound pesimistic but sometimes I wonder if the human race is just meant to kill itself off. Like we're a bacteria on the earth and we're going to eat it alive with our wars and garbage. I would prefer to think that we are antibodies and we could change all this. Anybody with me?

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

I want to be unique

I have always thought of myself as being unique. Actually, that's not true. I have prided myself in being unique. I remember striving to be unique as a teenager. I didn't want to be like anyone else. I never did anything really extreme. My unique-ness was brought out through creative expression, humor, dance, visual art and the way I dressed.

Now that I'm older and a little more "regular" than I used to be I'm glad that that's how I started out. It helped me become more independent and I am not afraid to express my opinions and thoughts. I express myself through hip hop, spoken word, singing, laughing til I cry....You get the idea.

I recently over heard a conversation where a young female hip hop mc said that she liked being the only girl in her crew because it makes her unique. My heart sunk a little when I heard her. This is where we're at? So, if there were 2 girls in the crew you would no longer be unique?

Has this belief stopped her from collaborating with other women? Probably. If she were to work with another woman would there still be underlying competition (the unhealthy kind)? Would she undermine other's efforts? Or would they undermine hers?

This is a problem in the hip hop community and possibly the whole community. Women feel so competitive against eachother that they can never get too close. We have our friends that we've known for a long time but anyone else has a slim chance to actually become very close to us. There can only be one girl in a hip hop crew. The token. Because you know, women can't get along.

I think this is total crap and at the same time I find myself thinking some of these same things from time to time. But the reality is, what makes me unique is NOT that I am a woman, or the only girl in the crew. What really makes me unique is the fact that only I can tell my story, my way. And I am the only one who knows my whole story.

There's millions of men & women on this earth....But only one of me.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

This is where I am from

When people ask me where I am from I always hestitate because everyone seems to be so critical and judgmental. I guess I don't feel like telling people where I am from on the map can give them a clear idea of where I am really from. The people I am from. The love I am from.
My Dad just sent me the story below. Read it and you will have a better idea about where I am from. It's not a state or a town. It's people and their stories. That's where I come from.

Storytellers by Perry Ross

There were at least six storytellers that had a big impact on me during my childhood. There was a cousin, Herb Beard; my grandfather, Perry Mendenhall; Dave Ross, another cousin; a childhood friend named Billy Jackson; and, of course, my mother and father who had a profound impact on me.

Herb was a colorful character that lived along the Skunk River near Faulkner Bridge. He had red hair and was always dressed in bib overalls and seldom wore shoes. He usually didn't wear a shirt under the overalls. The only time I ever saw him with shoes and a shirt was when he came to town and in the wintertime when we visited his house. I am not sure if he owned a coat.

The thing I remember about Herb's stories is that they started almost before you saw him so by the time he got to you he was well into it. He could weave a tail that he swore was true. There are the stories Herb told and then there are many stories about him that I will tell in time.

My grandfather, Perry, was a great storyteller and shared his tales with a smile. He was a great fisherman as well, which naturally goes hand in hand with storytelling. Back before television, great sources of stories were neighbors, friends and relatives who brought news when they came to visit. My mother says in her childhood days her home was a beehive of visitors…everyone with stories to tell and I am sure Grandpa did his share.

Dave Ross, my father's cousin, visited our home many times as I grew up. He originally was from the Merrimac area and liked to reminisce with my father. He often came around Old Threshers time. Each time he came he brought new stories and memories. He was so funny that many times I couldn't contain myself and I would burst out laughing even before he started to talk. Dave watched the stories play out in the eyes of his listeners and could tell when the story was going well and when to add a new twist. He would often begin to get this slight smile on the left side of his lips when he could see the story was going well. Dad taped many of Dave's stories. One I remember was the time Dave went to the doctors in Ottumwa to have a cancerous spot removed from his nose. He said, “They cut me up so bad I didn't know what piece to bring home!” We laughed hard every time he told us that one!

Billy Jackson came to our house regularly as we grew up. He would often show up and stay forever. My mother often had to prompt him repeatedly when it was time for him to go home. I guess he must have liked us. Billy could weave a story like no one else. He would start out with something completely believable and it would grow until it couldn't possibly be true. All the time he would watch your reaction and carve out the story. Most of the time, I think, he knew he wasn't fooling us but that didn't stop him from trying.

Of course, the truly great storytellers in my family were my parents. My mother can paint stories with words that could draw in any listener. I remember, at bedtime, her weaving stories for me using the images on the wallpaper in my bedroom. That wallpaper is still there. When you visit sometime look for the stories on the wall. They are still there. She can make a story out of anything! Mother is such a master of words that she can create vivid images in a line and a whole story in a poem. She still tells about her days with Lucille, the time the gypsies came to their house, riding her horse, her doll being thrown down the cistern, and many more.

My father savored good stories and searched them out by reading, researching, listening to others, and drawing on his own imagination. He would track down local folklore and try to determine if there was some truth to it. I remember him tracking down a story about a boy being killed in the mill at Merrimac. The story was that a boy working there was sent to the third floor of the mill to oil the gears. They were huge and he was pulled into them and crushed. Dad said he saw the blood stains on the floor when he was a boy. For sometime the old timers he talked to said it didn't happen but then his research led him to the Fairfield Ledger with a possible name and a three-year range that it might have happened. After pouring over microfiche of the papers for hours he found the newspaper story about the incident. He was elated.

Although storytelling is entertaining it was and is how we make sense of our life experiences. Sometimes they have to be told over and over before they begin to make sense. I often say, “there is no stopping a good story” It is fundamentally necessary to our existence. Without stories we can never learn. Listen to the stories. Listen to your own story.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Poem

April30, 2005 desdamona
Lips eclipse seduction
rips in hips introduction
to this hiss of meditation
creation tainted by eruption
global malfunction
destruction where there used to be nurture
torture torn and sewn by suture
future unsure a blur - pure
and impure
lure-ing in to truth demise
entranced dance
even fool the wise
close my eyes in awe-ful bliss
don't come close – I just want the kiss
time has caused my rhyme to miss
the target – and now I harness all this
adoration I carry
but the intention – outcome
tend to vary
I marry rhythm for the love of mine
mis-defined love this time
mistified I close my eyes
to rewind and find sublime
love it is not what the say
locked away – in my heart, it stays
sways with rain and wind and light
pouring forward – my delight
capture crust and only see the edge
far from depth – I walk the ledge
dredge through this dichotomy
truth – not what it used to be
come love / rapture in my heart
together when we are part
sufficient, I am separate
until, of love, we both forget
twist the succulent divine
until the you - inside of mine
capture caress upon my breast
be the last - sweetest breath
speak my name after I leave
for it will be
all there is and was of me

Friday, September 09, 2005

Listening

I was recently on KQRS' Homegrown show. It should be up for the next couple weeks at this link:
Homegrown Radio

I'm on the Sept. 4th show. Check it out and leave me some feedback if you feel like it.

Also,if you haven't checked out The Current 89.3fm Minneapolis you should really take a listen. And you can request your favorite local artists too.

Go here to request your favorite Minnesota artists!

The Current

Minneapolis Farmers Market

Join Global Vision Imports this Sunday, September 11th, at the Minneapolis Farmer's Market for a day long celebration of PEACE!!! Music, poetry, dance and more...


WHAT: A day long visualization, celebration, invitation, manifestation of PEACE!
WHERE: The Global Vision booth (look for the PEACE banners) at the Minneapolis Farmers Market...200 Lyndale Ave N. The corner of Glenwood/Lyndale... (under the freeway from International Market Square)

SCHEDULED PERFORMANCES:8-10am:
Open Mic...take a 10 minute block of time to read your favorite peace poem, share some uplifting stories or spread a vision of a world of peace and prosperity for all...
11am: Hip-hop spoken word artist DESDAMONA shares her passion with the incomparable rhythms of LADY TOBALYUS on percussion and guitar.
12pm: Be dazzled by the smooth salsa moves of the lovely Fatima Cochi and her amazing dance partner Luis Garcia.

PLUS>>>
Chair massage, travel talk/slide show, photos for PEACE, uplifting conversation, inspirational reading and heartwarming hugs


***Profits from sales of PEACE merchandise to be shared by the Red Cross ( for Katarina relief) and the MPT (an Iraqi organization headed by local businessman Sami Rasouli working to re-build Iraq)***

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Back to the Light

I've noticed that I'm not nearly as nice as a used to be. Actually, I may have been too nice and somehow I have eased my way to the dark side. Maybe it's because bullying can get to a girl. I know we've all been bullied but the thing about it is, we all deal with it in different ways. I guess my way, and I hate to admit it, is to shut down or judge people & hold grudges.

I wish it wasn't true. But I do hold grudges and I will quickly cut someone off if I feel they have treated me disrespectfully or manipulated me. I have many friends who put up with these behaviors from some of their friends. Honestly, it sort seems like martyrdom – but I know that's just me judging again. I just refuse to let people manipulate me. Who knows what they really want from me? I don't want to find out.

I know there are a lot of insecure people out there and of course, we can all be insecure about things. But when your personal insecurities interfear with relationships it gets messy partially because we don't know that we are projecting our insecurities and also because it leads to misunderstandings. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt. But then I think of something Maya Angelou said, “When people show you who they are believe them the first time.” Maybe it's harsh but it eliminates the prospect of any further chaos and confusion. I'm all about eliminating chaos.

The people who are my close friends are people I admire, respect, appreciate and in almost every case we can talk about anything. I don't feel manipulated by them and if I did I know I could talk to them about it. My friends have integrity and a good sense of who and what is around them. It's never all about them. They are compassionate and intelligent and I am lucky to have such good people in my life. They teach me to be more accepting and that maybe I'm a little too hard on people. We all make mistakes. We all have faults. They help me to see that holding grudges and judging people only feeds into the behavior, which means I become what I say I hate. I don't want that. No one does. So, it's time to ease back over to the light and let it go. Right? Right! Write.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Preditor & Prey

One of my friends who is a recovering addict told me that when he was having an evaluation upon entrance into a half way house they told him that he was a preditor. I almost laughed when he told me because I had never thought of him in that way. He's probably one of the most polite and respectful men I know, outside of my dad. He told me that he was floored when he was told that he was a preditor and thought it was a bit extreme, to say the least. But he also admitted that he was probably acting like a preditor. He just didn't realize it and how it manipulated others.

I have met preditors up close and personal as I believe that all women have. Now, I'm not talking about rapists or violent people. The preditor behavior I'm talking about is passive aggressive and I think most women find it a form of flattery.

I host an open mic every week at a local restaurant. We have a live band and many artists from various backgrounds who come down to listen or perform. We are just starting our third year and in this time I have been the host and people watcher. I've seen the effect that alcohol can have on nice people, and I have seen idiotic behavior and unnecessary fights, in this mostly peaceful environment. This is also the perfect place for a preditor to scope out and find his next target.

One of the musicians who used to come down on a regular basis was the poster boy for preditor. You may not have known it by looking at him though. He was attractive and works in his church and a leader and director. But when he was present at the open mic he seemed to be an entirely different person. Many times he would come near me, head tilted down, eyes up, looking me up and down....and actually acting like a lion ready for the kill. I'm not overexaggerating. It was blatant and in my eyes, totally disrespectful and made him look like a complete fool.

I asked him to stop numerous times but he contunued as if he thought it was funny. He would say sexual things when he thought he could get away with it – nothing too out there, but enough to make me back up. It was mostly the way he would circle around me or come behind me and pull my hair. There were also times when he came over to me and said, “come here.” as he tried to pull my by the arm over to some other spot in the room. No, he didn't ask me to come over or even take me by the hand. He'd either grab my upper arm or my wrist and try to pull me to where he wanted me to go. My response was to pull away – every time.

The problem with this possessive and preditorial behavior is that many women get treated in this way on regular basis and THEY PUT UP WITH IT! I think that women want someone to want them so badly that they see this behavior as desire and it makes them feel special. And I see some men who act like this and I don't even think that they realize what they are doing. I think we are raising men to act in this way. It's not all their fault....or ours. But, there obviously needs to be a change in how women are treated.

As a women some of the things I have heard men say that were directed towards me have literally made me stop in my tracks...and it wasn't to turn around and say HI. I have had a boy on the street make sexual remarks to me. I could have been his mother. That's how young he was. I've been in the mall and had young men say things as I'm walking down the hall. I've been downtown, walking down the street and a man followed me for a whole block trying to get me to talk to him, telling me he had a bachelor's degree, and sayin, “Come on, I have a college degree. Come on!” Finally, I turned around and said, “Man, I'm trying to walk down the street and I need you to leave me the fuck alone.” He left me alone but he caught a women coming from the other direction.

I don't even feel like walking in my own neighborhood and it's not a fear of violence that stops me. It's that I don't feel like getting howled at or having a car drive slowly down the street only to pull up next to me and stare at me. All of the things I have mentioned can tend to feel like a prison and have also hindered me from doing the things that I want to do. I hate that that is true....but it is.

Women are taught to be aware of others and to mother. I know I'm gerneralizing but I do think that women are more aware of the needs of people around them, even strangers. My hope is that men will start opening their eyes a little wider and even check their own and others actions before doing any of these things to women.

Monday, September 05, 2005

This might sound crazy...

But with the tragedy New Orleans and all the surrounding areas I'm starting to see something locally.

They've been building all these new apartments, and condos...and I have been wondering who the hell is movin in. So now, I have this theory....that within the next 5-10 years a lot of people will be moving to the midwest because of all this terrorism and natural disasters. The midwest has the illusion of being safe and I think people will start migrating to the middle of the nation.

There has been talk of a big earthquake coming on the west coast...seems we're getting hit from every side.

So, I still don't know who is moving in to the new condos but I think Minneapolis is about to have a big population boom. And maybe they have some exceptional city planners who can see stuff like this coming - some kind of psychic - and they're planning ahead. Ok, I know I really sound crazy now but when it happens you'll be like, "yo, des was right!"

Then I can start my 1 800 psychic line....Call me now for your free reading!



peace, des