i missed the bus

does anybody else start their calendar year in september? i can't really get past thinkin' september is the beginning of the year. years and years of that panic, anticipation, renewal, and hope that one fine lady in my home room class would take my virginity has led to me greeting the big s month with the same degree of newness. i don't know if i'll ever get past it. i still sit on the metro in those first few days of september, hoping that a lady from my new "home room" will take my virginity. i'd substitute the location for work, but since i'm self employed, i've already already banged the secretary and the boss. usually around 3pm on wednesdays after tisha campbell pops her head in on a rerun of martin.

washington, dc, 1996

mr. mark would love to have his new home room in rio. as in vanessa del. nasty.

no endz, no skinz

damn. those battle scars from the pre-adulthood days of crushes and heartbreak stay with you forever. i can get over a bad date as a 30-year-old. but the time i put into ana j., the big bootied argentine...boy those memories haven't faded. she was too nice to me, because it gave me false hope for a day where we'd she let me touch her butt while we tango'd (i of course envisioned wooing her with a surprise tango routine...jaw would drop, her knees would shake, a muscle flex or two would rip my shirt). when she gave up the digits, she set me up for failure. again, envisioining long phone conversations where she'd ask me to recount the amount of times i'd seen the goonies, or how many pairs of glasses i'd been through in my 8 years since having them. instead, i was offered a constant ring tone and her wonderful mother who apparently never knew where her daughter was. i eventually made it over to her place one night to smoke pot and listen to blues traveller and argentine folk songs. and while i watched her play guitar, smilin' at her mistakes, i envisioned a time where i would be with a queen who would be playin' songs for me, askin' me about my life, and letting me pat her butt freely.

i didn't envision askin' her to be quiet for a little bit and takin' my hand back so i could grab the remote and turn up the last few minutes of no reservations. damn, why you be so annoyin'?

go back to your 16-year-old mind at times. it'll make you appreciate your booty grabs better.

rockville, md, 1995

mr. mark wonders why you have some chinese family still tellin' mr. mark "there no ana here" whenever he calls, ana?

Episode 7- Scorpion Fingernails

Hip Hop From Mom's Basement from Mr. Mark on Vimeo.

they get me everytime.

Episode 6- Bathroom Graffiti

Hip Hop From Mom's Basement- Bathroom Graffiti from Mr. Mark on Vimeo.

oh, the mystery that is woman...

you know my steez

i've said it before and i'll say it again, i wish that black "x" from a night out impressed the ladies as much as i thought it did 14 years ago.

washington, dc, 1995

mr. mark no longer has people come up to him for autographs. it just happens. and they just happen to be related to him.

love sick

ouch. that's the impression we get as we get olda and date. yum, yum is the sound that comes out of our mouth searchin' the magazines and media images feulin' our young minds into believin' that luv is around the corner with any suitor or suitress that we fancy. ain't gonna happen.

but you gotta earn those bruises on your own and that ain't sumthin' that i'd teach the young people about. you gotta realize what's important in your partners. you can get someone with a good heart to turn tricks for you in the bedroom. you can't get a good heart out of just anyone.

really, you just want someone who's gonna laugh at your jokes, smile at your foibles, and call you out in the most lovin' of ways when you get to that asshole moment. the sentence "baby i love you" is wonderful. however, when the statement "but, you're being an asshole and i'm leaving now" follows after you've been actin' a fool, that's real. and in reality, the two of you shouldn't have to tip toe in the relationship and if they can call you on your shit while givin' you strength, you gotta keep that, dog. and that ain't sumthin' you're gonna find in the pages of a magazine.

nonetheless, i'm still here for you theresa randle.

esquire, 1995

mr. mark no longer believes that angie harmon will scratch his back on a sick day.

all my love

it takes the insight of an 8-year-old to define the status of your adult relationships.

washington, d.c., 2007

mr. mark is also weerd while she is so so so so so so pritty.

ex girl to the next girl

hmmm...lookin' back on your past relationships, how much was she the mistake versus you? 'cause when it comes down to it, we all lookin' for somethin' with our s.o.'s, whether it be love, validation, or santa's magical gift bag. 15 wasn't really a scoring age for nookie but i got my fair share of swag from the poor ladies that were in my pimply path. my mind wrapped itself in it's own form of validation, namely, if they're not giving up the nookie, it better be some form of loot. in six months i had aquired a copy of star wars, a boombox, tube underwear (for some reason), and these prized autographs.
thinkin' back, i realize where the mistake really was. i mean, are you really gonna give nookie to an acne'd 15-year-old tgif watching fool who will probably horde this prized possesion past the age of 30?

skeletons lurk in that closet, yo. i still have some thumbtacked to the wall.

rockville, md, 1994

ladeez, mr. mark luvs you, but it's time to part with that jordan catalano pillow. a hangin' with mr. cooper blanket will be sacrificed for your maturation.

treat 'em right

got beef? haven't had too much in my life, but there were some close calls. first real nasty one was in sixth grade. shakina was new to the school and mouthy as a lopez. got in my face and started making fun of my shoes (which she had a right to, since they were really red and had velcro). she walked away, but not far enough to miss "bitch" slip out of my mouth. oops. kinda the wrong thing to do. ms. mouthy had some fists and a few older brothers who were two steps shy of juvie. teachers got us into our class before heads started ringing and i didn't get too far before i heard "my brothers and i are gonna fuck you up after school." oops, again. made it to my bus without being seen and kept a low profile for awhile. when i finally ran into shakina at school, she offered me some gum and asked if was gonna hang out with everybody at the party that weekend. oops? no, she meant it. i don't know what to take from this, happiness or sadness? happy that she saw the real me and showed me respect for standing up for myself or the fact that that "bitch" was just a long line of labels which she would accept for the rest of her life. wonder where she is now. i'd let her know i just didn't know how to tell her she was pretty.

i'd call her "lady" if i ever saw her again.

cabin john middle school, 1991

mr. mark thinks velcro and sunny d could stop world wars.

i like big thighs and i cannot lies

gorditas, period. estilo, period. let the skinny gals deal "with."

big mamas, you give us men the real hugs we need.

bogotá, colombia, 2006

mr. mark believes you can hear the ocean between big bosoms.

'96 année érotique

foreign exchange students. not sure if i need to apologize for this, but they were the first i went after. actually, all the otha grrrls was first, until i realized that it's hard to turn someone down when you don't speak the language. when my muscle flexing didn't translate, i went to the cine. we was mad close to a french invasion in the 90's. and for real, would that have been a bad thing?
julie delpy was girl next door, when the girl next door was that foreign exchange student who still knew more about what to do in town, and was a constant source of imported gauloises.
emmauelle béart. angelina jolie? get the fuck outta here. yo, béart was doing it before you, grrrl. better lips and better pathos. jolie's the type of woman who sleeps with eye wraparounds, forcibly on her back, while she shoos brad away for disturbing the type of sleep prescribed by her inside source at W magazine for removing "unwanted streesful lines caused by bad spiritosis." béart squirms and screams in her sleep, waking up to have a cigarette, saying "fuck, that was goood."
finally, still jonesin' to see ms. deneuve get the props that she deserves stateside, especially after catching her do the lesbian bit in les voleurs in '96. keep agin' mama. still goin' strong givin' pride to older women, if only they'd give her the juice she deserves...

esquire, '96

mr. mark hopes charlotte gainsbourg responds to his fan mail at some point.

ladies first

what's more revolutionary- a black president or a woman?  while we was askin' ourselves, the progress was happening below us.  michelle bachelet, first female prez in the americas...holla. chile, a land of machismo sensibility and conservative beliefs (divorce was ok'd a few years back).  when men were asked why they voted for her, "a woman's more trustworthy than a man."  add on to that, a single mother and former socialist...shit, that's progress, son.  or daughter.

i liked her 'cause she looked like my mom.

chile, 2005

mr. mark would not be opposed to being first gentleman.  

damn it feels good to be a malfaiteur

love is patience. love is honor. and no other honor holds truer than accompanyin' your boyfriend on valentine's day to see the ill nana of french gangsta flicks. of course, if she hadn't gone then i would've just written "bitch."

ladies, you do a lot for us sometimes.

nyc, 2003

mr. mark would still like to be alain delon when he grows up. or an unfiltered cigarette.

make the music wit' yo' mouth

these boy bands come and go.  but i'm waiting for the real research to go into these things.  yo, with the right minds we can investigate social norms and shit.  in 50 years maybe we'll realize that women have a hard time in adult relationships because they fantasized so much about gay men in their youth.  

entertainment weekly, 1999

mr. mark never got a callback.