Besides the Grey hairs on my genital region that make my crotch look like an unsmoked cigar in an ashtray, a declining sexual stamina that makes 30 minutes of sex seem like "hardcore marathon fucking" to me, and an expanding ass area that makes me want to avoid the penitentiary at all costs, nothing reminds me that I'm getting old like my rapidly declining tolerance to marijuana. Years ago, when I got carded continuously and fellow skateboarders didn't refer to me as "sir", I had no problem handling the effects of that sweet, sweet cheeba. Granted, there were some mishaps, like the time I attempted to fight five men all at once and the little incident when I called a catholic priest a "dirty cocksucker" in the middle of mass one morning, but all in all I have handled my pot addiction with grace and style in my honest opinion. But now at the grizzled age of 33 I now see that I have to put space between myself and my ability to smoke weed through an apple, I have to file papers of separation to my cheech and chong bong with the visage of two of my favorite Latinos on the side, and after the divorce is finalized I know that I'm going to miss getting high and fucking some stripper ten years my junior against the side of my car as I let out child-like chuckles. I guess I could attribute it to getting older and maturity, me turning over a new leaf, but the real reason is because my marijuana induced acts of lunacy have become more frequent as I spawn more Grey pubes. Besides me having nutty outbursts like Martin Lawrence when he ran into rush hour traffic with a loaded handgun screaming "Fight the Power!!!" when I have been under the influence as of late, said outbursts tend to be of the religious variety.
Like this romantic night I spent with this chick named Marisol a few months back, she cooked mac and cheese, had a place on the beach and an ass that men around the world should make a pilgrimage and pray to at least once in their lives, and she had a sack of weed, so I just knew that I'd spend the better part of the night licking things that I would regret in the months to come. But the weed did me in, instead of me ramming my toddler penis inside this lovely Latina as I impressed her with my Spanish language skills(counting to 20 that is..), I found myself stripping butt-naked, jumping into the ocean then floating on my back with my arm stretched out, and rambling incoherently "This is what it must have felt like to be Noah and shit!!" I'll tell you, almost getting arrested and having the female officer look me up and down and say "I knew that myth was some bullshit!!!" as she pulled me out of the water was so embarrassing that I swore off weed forever, at least that's what I thought.
My most recent nut-bag outburst was a few weeks ago when I got baked before going to one of my friends' art exhibit in a very snooty part of town. Before I entered the establishment I noticed a homeless man on the corner multi-tasking like a motherfucker, asking for change, singing classic R&B songs, and claiming that he was Jesus Christ. Since I'm a guy who is always nice to homeless people because of my gut feeling that Jesus Christ himself randomly rents space in bums to see how well you treat them, add that I was higher than crackfeins on trampolines at the time, I decided to ask go up to Jesus and ask him some shit that I always wanted some answers too. Listen, I don't know if that gentleman died for our sins or not, the only thing I know is that during my intense questioning he put his hand on my head, closed his eyes, and then took off running like I had pointed a shotgun at him. Anyway, here are a few of the things that I asked him about if you were wondering..
Chicks who don't want to fuck on Sundays: I know that people collectively shake their heads in disbelief when I tell them that I believe in god, but I do, I guess I just have a huge problem with his messengers and people who rationalize their behavior in the name of religion. For example, I had a girlfriend in college that was so adamant about her religion that she didn't want to have sex on Sunday, didn't want me to play my evil Hip Hop on the lords day, she even tried her best to dissuade me from lacing her heavenly ears with the profanities that I spewed on a regular basis. I guess all of those are reasonable requests, but the fact that Monday through Saturday you could find her blasting the most deviant forms of rap imaginable, and showing a kinky-ness that induced her to request cucumbers in a couple of her orifices and using my ejaculate to blow bubbles. I mean, she didn't think that the big guy in the sky didn't notice her behavior during the week?? Hell, after we broke up I heard that she was fucking with the same frequency of a porn star and still maintaining her "strict" religious beliefs, to the point that I envision a panel of angels watching her shenanigans and one of them replying "If that girl wants to get to heaven, she better learn to put that dick down!!"
Tithing: I have no problem with giving money to a church if my money that would otherwise be reserved for whores and porn went to a kids program, the church nursery, or even to a member of the congregation that needed a new liver because of his years of alcohol abuse. But now that I'm older and have crossed paths with preachers who use the church as their financial hustle, I've been more hesitant putting anything in that tray that they pass besides a few stray rocks and the condom that I've had in my wallet since the last episode of "21 Jump Street" aired. Whenever I've asked people if I could give 10% of myself, like feeding the homeless or volunteering in a soup kitchen instead of a monetary sum, they always stress the money part for some reason. I'm sorry, maybe my negative views on tithing might permit me from getting into heaven(along with fucking someone during a wake and pinching a nuns ass once), but I'll be damned if I support some crooked preacher by helping with his car note, contributing to him buying the solitary gold tooth in his mouth that has become his trademark, or help pay for the dinner he had with a woman that isn't his wife. Fuck that.
Gospel Mimes: I'm a guy who grew up with such a healthy fear of clowns that I have punched more men with make-up than a cross-dressing boxing champion, so suffice it to say that me and mimes get along as famously as Courtney Love and a bar of soap. That being said, what in the fuck is up with these gospel mimes that you see in a lot of the black churches nowadays? Basically its these black guys in white face, wearing white gloves, doing some sort interpretive dance that is pretty unsettling for a guy who once kicked Ronald McDonald in the nuts.(I was 28 when I did that by the way..) I first saw this a few months ago when I went to my cousin's church, the mere sight of them provoked me to grab her arm like we were watching a horror flick and say "Who the fuck are they??!!" After my fear subsided and unadulterated hatred crept in, I just ice grilled those bastards and kept saying in a subdued evil voice, "I'm going to kill every last one of those motherfuckers!!!"
Religious Hip Hop: I don't care what anyone says, but I have given religious Hip Hop more chances than I gave Common's "Electric Circus", each time hoping that I hear one redeeming quality in that genre of music. I'm sure there is going to be commenter's who will say shit like, "Nah HumanityCritic, you have to listen to MC Holy Trinity and DJ Frankincense and Burr, they are great!" I'm telling you, I've heard a shitload of gospel wordsmiths and I have yet to stop my eyes from rolling and having a Linda Blair experience where I spew profanities and a liquidy green goo out of my pie hole. I guess I wouldn't have a problem with a gospel artist that shared his or her personal struggles with their faith and the sinful world that taunts them like holding a big mac in the face of a fat kid, tales of their old life that they never want to revisit, or even getting off the whole church vibe for a second and talking about a million other topics that don't involve sin. But no, it seems that every verse is peppered with "praise" this, "worship" that, and the amount of times that these rappers name drop Jesus' and God's name, it makes "The Game's"constant mentioning of Dr. Dre seems rather tame.