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Somali Pirates Have To Be Dumb As Hell…

On the 6th May, eleven Somali pirates hijacked the Liberian-flagged Russian oil tanker, MV Moscow University, carrying 86,000 tonnes of crude oil worth $US52 million in the Gulf of Aden. The anti-submarine destroyer Marshal Shaposhnikov was notified and dispatched a helicopter which disrupted the pirates while commandos on speed boats stormed the tanker. The Russian forces then freed the crew who had locked themselves in a safe room after disabling their ship. As they did so, the pirates opened fire, sparking a shoot-out. 10 pirates were arrested while one was killed during the gun battle. Now a “Pirate Spokesman” who wishes to remain anonymous is claiming that all the men in the above photo were executed by the Russian Navy. His statements and my thoughts after the break. “The Russians commandos stormed the ship before sunrise, starting a firefight with our men, onboard they injured three of them and one was killed,” he said. He dismissed the Russian navy statement that the men were released because of “the absence of a legal base to carry out prosecution procedures against pirates”. “The Russians never released the young men instead they shot them point-blank range then loaded their lifeless bodies back on the boat,” he added. The spokesman condemned the action of the Russian navy “our men never hurt their hostages, we simply want foreign ships to stop overfishing in our waters, if they are not happy to respect our-fishermen and their livelihood, we have no choice but to take hostage to compensate for the losses,” he cited. “We condemn the action of the Russians, it’s driven by racism and hate for black people and Africa, it’s the face of the new Russia. In future, if we capture Russians they will meet the same fate as those they executed,” he added. Meanwhile, many Somalis were angered by Somalia’s ambassador to Moscow, Mohamed Handule’s statement, who backed the Russian navy denying that the Russian destroyer Marshal Shaposhnikov has not acted inappropriately. They requested an investigation and the immediate replacement of Mr. Handule. “Not one Somali or the government of our country sees Russia as being guilty in this,” Mr. Handule told ITAR-TASS news agency. Source   Seriously! So these pirates just think they can get away with that much oil scot free??? I think they’ve been living at sea for too long. It’s gotten to their heads! Oil is such a precious commodity. If it were my oil, you bet I’d blast a hole in their heads given the chance. Ati compensation for losses suffered due to overfishing. Bull crap! Oil tankers are not made for fishing. They are for transporting oil dummies! I hate when people pull the race card for no reason. It’s like saying, when a thief steals maize from my farm, he can justify it by saying the crop was obstructing his view. I say kudos to Russia! Let’s show these idiots the rest of the world is about their business. You try to steal from me, I blow your head to kingdom come! Feeling rather violent this morning aren’t I?

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Wale On #ThatThing Called LOVE

Posted by itchbay | Posted in Interviews | Posted on 21-01-2010

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I love it when a man can let go of his inhibitions just enough to talk about LOVE. That’s a part of men we rarely, if ever, get to see… And to me, it’s just so sexy. Wale talks about that stupid kind of love which makes you do things you wouldn’t normally even think of doing! But that’s what makes it so much fun and really unforgettable. You haven’t really lived until you’ve experienced it. For me I think it was my first love. But then you grow up and you realize that love is just not enough, or you’ve grown into different people. It’s still a beautiful thing to experience and I don’t regret it one bit.

The irony in the pursuit of success is that once some of us achieve the dream we swore we wanted, the things that were important on the road to it tend to deteriorate — family, “friends” and often love.When I was in early high school, I would chant nonsense like money over bitches. Looking back, I cringe. After failed relationships, failed “flings,” failed attempts at being a gigolo, player, or anything under that umbrella, I made a self declaration that 2010 will be the year of #thatthing. #thatthing is an absolute anomaly. It’s unexplainable. It soothes, it kills, it holds, it harms. It literally can grant life or death with one touch. And for this reason, many of us wear masks, metaphorically of course. Masks that cover insecurities. Masks that prevent #thatthing from capturing you in its relentless clutch. The fear of being hurt, for some, is far more important then the joy of being in love.

Women, how many men have you met who surround themselves around so many women, they wouldn’t be able to distinguish “the one” if she were right under his nose? I propose the same question to the dudes: Have you ever courted someone and did everything in your power to make her “open her eyes” (Bobby Caldwell x Common)? Yet she still wants to be in the club every other day or she tells you she doesn’t want commitment. That is her trying not to be vulnerable. That is the proverbial wall that can’t be penetrated because even the briefest daydream of #thatthing will send her into shock. #thatthing has the staring role in life’s movie. A nigga may have never experienced #thatthing, but his mother/father/sister/brother/teammate’s experiences may have been enough to instill the fear. A woman may never have experienced that thing, but her homegirl/bestfriend/play-cousin just may have made a fool of herself at a local club, go-go, movie theater or mall because of #thatthing.

I’ve decided to pursue monogamy this year because #thatthing is beautiful. I literally drove down South Dakota Avenue with a North Face coat (the big joint) some basketball shorts, a wifebeater, and Timberlands. (Nike boots were muddy) on a summer night, because I wanted to show her “how real these tears are.” I’ve decided to pursue monogamy this year because #thatthing is beautiful. I literally drove down South Dakota Avenue with a North Face coat (the big joint) some basketball shorts, a wifebeater, and Timberlands. (Nike boots were muddy) on a summer night, because I wanted to show her “how real these tears are.” I can laugh at myself now, but at the time #thatthing had me lunchin’.

 

Ladies, Gents — #thatthing don’t give a fuck what she/he looks like, either. Many of us have fallen victim to the I-can’t-believe-I-used-to-sleep-with-that-monstrosity syndrome. Another result of #thatthing. For fear of hurting someone’s feelings (and encouraging an angry woman to stalk me), let’s just say I once was so caught up in #thatthing, I looked past several character flaws (as well as physical) for an extended period of time.

I have to ask myself why. Is it the thrill of chase? Spending nights under the covers talking about nothing? Your partner is so “perfect” that just to hear their breath is the most tranquil feeling in the world (and completely trumps a quick nut from a jump-off.) Her sex is so good I look past the fact that she has no job, no car, no ambition, and no drive. Or ladies — maybe he f*%cks so good that you forget that he has six children and he’s only 25. The most proud can be publicly foolish. The shy guy can transform into the most outspoken. The moment your heart and hormones start to fight for control of your brain, you’re probably caught up in #thatthing.

My pursuit of #thatthing is a difficult one. I like to consider myself an unrecognizable famous person, meaning I can still do the things most 25-year-old employed black men can do, without too much attention. But at the same time, a lot of these women know who I am, (albeit never heard a song. LOL.) This is where the pessimism starts to creep in. And the paranoia that guides my judgment when exchanging numbers. Why does she want to talk to me? How long till she tells me she’s a model? I met Jay-Z in ‘99 he said he was gonna sign me. Can you ask him if we’re still good? Situations like this make the pursuit of #thatthing just as hard as shaking it off once acquired.

walemusic.com :: twitter.com/wale :: myspace.com/wale

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