flip hop

Seriously, I have to ask. What in the world is going on with some of today’s hip-hop artists? More specifically, why does it appear they use Twitter as a resume builder for job openings in motivational speaking? I’m not criticizing them for trying to make a difference, I’m laughing because a lot of their advice directly contradicts their lyrics. I call them flip-flop artists.

Flip-flop artists will touch the hearts of their female followers by sending tweets on the proper ways to treat a lady. This of course just before releasing a single that boasts their ability to throw stacks at strippers. Flip-Flop artists turn the other cheek and inspire their followers to take the high road when it comes to their haters. Then, they release a song featuring a profanity laced message to their own. I am not a prude and I happen to enjoy hip-hop music, but when it comes to loving an artist– they have to be real.

Real~a word MOST used by today’s hip-hop artists, funny how few actually are. Either the Tony Robbins twist on Twitter is fake, or the music they promote is, but they can’t have it both ways. Again, this is NOT an indictment on all rappers or hip-hop music as a whole. I speak only through observations I have made on my personal Twitter account, of which I am still hardly popular. Maybe I’ll go motivational? -BKB

Choke A Cola


We all have our crosses to bear in life. Those little things that always seem to plague us no matter what. If you haven’t already gathered mine, take a gander at my favorite sports teams under the “Extras” tab on this website. I will give you 10 seconds now to do so…


Ok, now that you have done that did anything stand out?

(I won’t bother opening the floor for discussion, this blog isn’t exactly bleeding with comments from crazed fans…yet.)

Ladies and gentlemen, I like teams that choke. And when my team chokes in or before they make the post-season, the team I decide to pull for the rest of the way–chokes accordingly.



Yes, I’m afraid my teams have been drinking Choke-A-Cola since I was 4 years old. That was 1995, and by no coincidence the last year the Atlanta Braves and Dallas Cowboys were World Champions.

I was born in 1991, By the time I was 4, the Cowboys had won 3 Super Bowls, the Braves started their 14 consecutive division titles streak and won a World Series. The significance of that to me at the time—none. I was too busy sneaking away to soil my diaper and play with barbi- uhhh I mean GI Joes.

Since then, it has been one choke after another, and on the biggest and brightest stages. My teams don’t just lose, they lose bad. I mean they rip your heart out and blow it to pieces, then are kind enough to do it again the following season. Whether it’s dropped snaps or walk-off homers my teams have a real flare for the dramatic–choking edition.


As previously stated it doesn’t just plague my true blue favorites, but any team I decide to root for at any given time. In 2011-2012 the Atlanta Braves were a customary early exit in the playoffs so I decided to pull for the Reds. Being from Cincinnati, it was cool to see one of our teams in the national spotlight. What happened next? The Reds lost 3 straight games at home, squandering a 2-0 series lead, allowing San Francisco to advance to the NLCS and eventually win the World Series.

Case in point.

This last Super Bowl, or should I say Snoozer Bowl was no different. I pledged my allegiance to Peyton Manning and the best offensive team not just this season, but of all-time. In return I was rewarded with 8 measly points and one of the most lopsided Super Bowls in the history of the game.

There will be plenty more opportunities for me to sound off on the Cowboys or Braves by themselves and trust me, in time I will. But for now, I’ll leave the magnitude of their recent failures for you to reflect on. Just know each time I had a front row seat.

Furthermore, I would be remiss if I didn’t at-least give the Kansas Jayhawks basketball squad some credit. They’ve been mopping up my tears from Dallas Cowboys disasters for years. However, they aren’t entirely without blood on their hands. They did go 20 years in between National Championships. But hey, toddler years aside, it was the only time a team I called my own reigned tall atop the sports mountain. All is forgiven.

Cowboys…Braves…that could be you. But I won’t hold my breath.


Fakebook and Twitter

fbvtwtIn a world dominated by social media, sacrifices have to be made, only the best can survive. Even with the obesity boom in this country we still haven’t found a way to have our cake and eat it too.

At one time the different options of social media could have been seeded bracket style and the field would have been just as large as the NCAA tournament. For the sake of continuing that theme I think its safe to say we’ve arrived at the National Championship. Facebook vs. Twitter.

Its a heavyweight bout of two #1 seeds.

Coming out of the South region Facebook was untested in its route to the Championship. The ability to stalk old ‘spring break’ albums of the girl you never stood a chance with, and the sheer convenience of hitting on her over inbox soared Facebook passed MySpace in the Elite 8. MySpace in all fairness never stood a chance, despite a few perks it was never able to overcome all of the spam, and downright creepiness of its creator, “Tom.”

Instagram appeared to have a shot at the upset early in the final four contest, but ultimately fell, thanks to the users who post pictures of their throw pillow arrangement and 14 consecutive duck face selfies.  In the end, too few people give a damn about the majority of the pictures they see on Instagram, and Facebook is just a tad more creeper friendly.

Blowing through the Midwest region Twitter has taken the world by storm. Just when people thought Facebook couldn’t be beaten, Twitter emerged as a contender. Not only can you stalk the lives of your favorite celebrities, but it also made updating your status 100 times a day totally cool and acceptable.

But wait-there’s more…

People always want what they can’t have, and that 140 character limit drives Twitter faithful a good kind of crazy. We know this, because people will butcher their tweet with atrocious grammatical errors to fit the 140 limit before they’ll go over to Facebook and type the same thought out entirely. And they do this knowing that on Facebook 1,000 friends will see it, and on Twitter its more like what, 400 if you’re popular? Thats love.

We all know why Twitter has become the most popular lets be honest, the reason is obvious. The parent infiltration numbers are substantially lower. Every parent has a Facebook now, hell some of ’em even share one account. We’ve all seen ’em.

“Paul and Sherry Timmons commented on your status.”

Seriously, parents are not only on Facebook these days but they’re the driving force behind its relevance. Once upon a time your notifications reveled who had a crush on you and couldn’t get enough of your stuff. Now they just reiterate that your parents “like” everything that you do.

People still seem to respect their parents however, thats one good thing thats come from this. I believe its that fear of parental disapproval that has people my age cleaning up their act on Facebook. Everywhere I look Facebook profiles today are chalked full of family oriented pictures, statuses that show off political intelligence or the direction of that person’s life, and are only updated every so often.  Ya know, the portrait of a low-key, respectable, career driven individual.

That same person on twitter tweets every five minutes, follows sexually explicit accounts, and is doing a keg stand in their profile picture. Girls are very much included in this, the gal sittin’ on her daddy’s lap in her Facebook profile is doing the same thing in her Twitter avi. Only on Facebook it’s her actual father.

I don’t know maybe I’m just bitter at Facebook because nobody cares about my profile anymore. I got over a 1,000 friends and I can’t get more than 6 likes no matter what I post on there. I guess that means I really only have 6 friends, which now that I think of it–is 5 more than I can name so I guess I’m doing alright.

Of course, my low numbers of notifications would be a lot easier to cope with if every girl who changes her profile picture wasn’t getting 200 likes and 32 comments. I could send out a viable solution to end world hunger and I could only count on my personal fan club-or in other words.. my parents..to like it. What gives?

To be continued…




Eddie Murphy, I feel your pain. What started out as a good deed just turned in to a valuable life experience. My mom operates a home daycare, and has for close to 25 years. I turn 23 later this month and the significance of that- it took me until today to realize what it takes to do what she does.

Daycare is no place for daddies-or me.

Honestly, if you would have asked me any time before today I wouldn’t have seen the challenge. Open the “play-room” doors and let them wreak their havoc, maybe read a picture book,  two if you’re feeling really frisky, lay ’em down for a nap from 12-3, then open the “play-room” doors and let them wreak their havoc, maybe read a picture book or two–you get the point.


My mom had a doctors appointment today at 12:30 and was planning on having one of our neighbors fill in for her while she was out. Perhaps she knew I couldn’t hack it, but I just assumed she forgot I was an option. “Pshh I got it mom, why would one of the neighbors have to come over when I’ll be home? I got it, it will be fine.”  Over-confidence at times can be my achilles heel.

The air started to seep out of my proverbial balloon when she said “Ok, be downstairs tomorrow at 10am.”

10am? Didn’t she say her appointment was at 12:30? All I’m accustomed to doing at 10am is gearing up for another 2 hours of sleep. Failing to budge on my “report time” she reminded me that I spend very little time down in her daycare while the kids are there. “If you want them to take a nap and NOT go crazy when I leave you should probably think about spending some time with them while I’m there.”

Yes, mom.

Poised to fail my first day as the substitute of “Michelle’s Daycare,” my mom had to knock down walls to wake me up at 10 this morning.

“You were serious about that?” I said still half asleep. Very poor choice of words.

As soon as I arrived in the basement I isolated the 2 year old, Luca, to start shmoozing. I knew he would most likely be the one giving me fits when my mom left. For reasons unbeknownst I decided to start calling his name in this deep kind of rumbling voice “LUUUCAAA…” My mom without missing a beat says to me, “Yeah thats called scaring him, thats not a good strategy.”

Fail again.


It was now time for “circle time” and my mom announces to the kids that I will be doing the honor of reading the story. I must not have gotten that memo, but at this point all four kids were working in to a frenzy, “YEAH AARON READ IT READ IT READ IT!”


So there I was reading a picture book about a chameleon who was tired of changing colors. I got one kid starting to walk on me, and while withstanding his stomps to my mid-section another one loses interest and starts bouncing a beach ball off the ceiling. I obviously had zero control of the situation and the little buggers were quick to realize it.

Each time anarchy began to unfold and the inmates ran the asylum, my mom would regain control and hand the reigns back over to me. Sink or swim, I respect that philosophy. But I’m beginning to think I gotta better chance of succeeding at basic underwater demolition seal training than I do at home daycare.

I handled up on what I had to do and got them in their napping spots as instructed. But nap-time is over now and my mom still isn’t home. Back to the front lines I go.

Here’s to diapers being dry and my impending retirement which starts as soon as my mom walks through the door.

Praise to the moms out there. This job isn’t for the faint of heart.



Redheaded for Oppression

Proving redheads do know how to be cool I popped my collar AND wore a hoop earring as a freshman in high school.
Proving redheads do know how to be cool I popped my collar AND wore a hoop earring as a freshman in high school.

It’s a scary time to be a red head I tell ya. In a world where bad parts of history start to repeat themselves, I fear the worst for my band of ginger top brothers. It’s of my possibly moronic opinion that we redheads could be journeying down the wayward path of injustice. The oppression is real.

Our pale skin, carrot colored hair, and multitude of freckles have made us a pretty hilarious punch line over the years, and that’s how it starts. But punch lines turn in to common phrases, and before ya know it you’re describing mis-treated panty wastes as “redheaded step-children.”

Propaganda in the form of outrageously funny episodes of South Park pushes it to the next level, and in the blink of an eye national opinion promotes inequality. In our case, we are way passed unequal, we’re hardly human-we don’t even get souls.

Certain business owners have even decided they don’t want to serve us. Thousands of businesses nationwide offer services carrot tops can’t use or we’ll be killed…Its true, they’re called tanning beds.

All jokes aside (but not really) people call me a ginger all the time, and its never bothered me. Seriously, I’ve been called a ginger many times by many different people. Mainly the disgruntled girls I was hitting on. It just never carried with it the same sting as my inability to go outside without sunscreen.

Really, when you get called somethin’ so many times it not only loses its luster, you get used to it. I’ve thought about adopting it and having one of those cool hyphenated last names. It would have made taking attendance in school so much more entertaining.

“Aaron Ginger-Brodie?”


Would have been worth it just to see the look on my classmates faces.

In all seriousness, if you wanna call me a ginger go ahead, its over-used and unoriginal. Just beware, you are 1 minor switch of 2 letters from sayin’ somethin’ far less socially acceptable.


Fitness 19 Makes a Funny

One of Fitness19's wall mounted motivational quotes.
One of Fitness19’s wall mounted motivational quotes.

Lets be real, if Jersey Shore made one thing cool during its domination of late night TV, it was weightlifting right?  I mean its the only facet of GTL (gym, tan, laundry) I haven’t thrown to the way side. Of course, I never really gave tanning a chance, being in the “redheaded” fraternity a trip to the tanning bed would go about as well as a trip to the electric chair. But I digress.

Now, if there is one thing Fitness 19 fancies itself with its the constant rearranging and remodeling of their quite limited space. For a while there I couldn’t successfully walk to the calf machine on my first try. It was like a regular game of hide and go seek precluded any workout. Recently, they found a layout that suits them, but new “before and after” pics of world class success stories are showing up on the walls, and cheesy, “off the wall” motivational quotes are surfacing above the water fountains. Usually, I would just laugh when I read them and continue on my way, but this time I couldn’t help myself.


I think a resounding LOL is in order here. Actually, lets step it up to a sturdy LMAO! Is this what motivational quotes are coming to these days? Who put Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino in charge of motivating the Fitness19 patrons? Seriously, I had to check twice to see if “grenade” or “slop-o-potamus” was in there. They aren’t, but I suppose you will become both if you don’t take heed to this brilliance.

Fitness 19 is the best kept secret in Mason, Ohio. I will continue to workout there as long as they’ll let me, but their new wave of inspiration is down right comical. I can’t wait to see what they pin up next, possibly, “RETIRE THE KITCHEN DITCHEN, IT’S TIME TO DITCH THE KITCHEN!” Or maybe the trainers  will start blowing in to a grenade whistle should their clients fault on the bench press. Either way it appears a new era is upon us, so get ready. It’s t-shirt time.


#1 Hit in Waiting?

The most bizarre thing happened to me at work on Friday January 24, 2014. Interning at Cumulus Media, I was about halfway thorough another shift when I randomly got a beat in my head. This can happen from time to time, but I always end up remembering the song that beat belonged to. This time I didn’t. I realized after a few minutes that this beat was original, and decided I would have some fun with it. Jokingly at first, and to help deviate from the monotony of another work day, I started making up lyrics to fit the beat I was now humming audibly. The longer I kept this up the more serious I got about putting it to paper. Unfortunately, I still had a job to do and that “241 Cars” traffic line was not letting up. However, just as the phone continued to ring, blaring in my mind this beat continued to play. Needless to say, by the time I left work at 5 I had created the chorus to my first song. Thrilled by the direction the song was heading, I couldn’t wait to get home and write it down. Anyway, the song was completed that night and I’m convinced I have something here. If only Eric Church was easily reached I think this song would not only fit his criteria, but his style of country rock. Below are the lyrics to my first song in which I titled “Alone.” Sounds a tad depressing by title, and it doesn’t totally fit my personality, but perhaps in this instance I was used only for reasons of the divine?



Livin’ in a whirlwind covered in mud
Benefits of livin life misunderstood
I’m an alpha male addict
Relationship tragic
Never been one for the lovey dove stuff
Rather spend my time underneath of my truck
Holdin’ on to my pride, never set it aside
At the expense of my wife, and love of my life
But then again, all wounds will mend


Yeah I was raised a man through a firm backhand
Emotions not pride were suicide
Don’t worry ’bout me I’ll be just fine
Cause in my mind
I’ll just go home and sit on my throne
I don’t need you no
I’ll make it through this on my own
But then I close my eyes and try to sleep at night
Fightin’ visions of you standin by my side
I want you home I feel alone
I want you home I feel alone


In a bout with these feelings I’ve never had
I’ve never felt so close to feelin’ so bad
I don’t know what to do, this all is new
But I can’t fight the thought of me lovin’ you
Ya better watch yourself is what my daddy’d say
I’ll bet ya by now he’s rollin in his grave
I gotta look alive, quit feelin deprived
I’m the last of my kind, I will survive
Cause then again, all wounds will mend


Yeah I was raised a man through a firm backhand
Emotions not pride were suicide
Don’t worry ’bout me I’ll be just fine
Cause in my mind
I’ll just go home and sit on my throne
I don’t need you no
I’ll make it through this on my own
But then I close my eyes and try to sleep at night
Fightin’ visions of you standin by my side
I want you home I feel alone
I want you home I feel alone


I spent my whole life long buildin up these walls
That fell the day you left
Now I can say what I say but at the end of the day
I want my baby


I can tell myself I’ll just go home and sit on my throne
I don’t need you no
I can make it through this on my own
But then I close my eyes and try to sleep at night
Fightin’ visions of you standin’ by my side
I want you home I feel alone
I need you home I feel alone
Baby come back home I am alone