Why Charlie Sheen is in fact Bi-winning

I often tell people, if I were one of those prodigious young basketball phenom types, whose unprecedented success was written in the stars, and it was fully evident to all those around me that I was going pro, becoming financially set for life before I reached the tender age of 21, thus I was considered “special”, and everybody I made acquaintance with from the time I was 13 years old slurped the hell out of me with fawning adulation, in hopes of reserving a seat on my bandwagon of lifelong glory, I would feel absolutely no pressure to conform to society and all of its rules of assimilation.

You know, all the things that minorities have to do in order to blend in more easily with the majority. Things like “code switching”, the term that refers to the way our speech is altered outside the home to align more closely with that which the majority is comfortable with.

 The manner in which we consciously dress so as to ensure the impression we make on the outside world is perceived as non-threatening, so as not scare the begeebies out of good white folk we come in contact with every day.

Just routine, day to day tasks we are required to perform; tasks that totally missed people like Lil Wayne, who was signed straight from the NOLA projects to a major record label at 14 years of age, thus never being burdened with the expectation of being “like everybody else”.

Yep, I’d be something like that. I would have absolutely no problem whatsoever setting the black race back a minimum of 500 years. Basically, I would be mad niggerish.

I’m talking jewelry galore.  I’m not just talking ostentatious 50 karat studs in both ears that cost more than your child’s college education. That’s too conventional.

I’m talking 5 gold chains pendulously hanging down from my neck to my kneecaps, with ridiculously absurd pendants  attached to each; like a diamond encrusted, platinum dinner plate that I would routinely detach from my chain to eat my meals off of, then once my food was fully digested,  I’d rinse it off in my solid gold sink, and then reattach it to my chain.

While displaying my bedroom on MTV cribs, I’d make mention of my giant waterbed, filled with not water, but something obscenely ignorant, like Patron. And as proof that it was indeed filled with Patron, I’d have two busty, half naked women pouring one bottle of patron after another into the beds spout, filling it to capacity, as we film.

Next to my Patron-soaked waterbed, I’d have a bedside table drawer stacked to the brim with cash, like the shamelessly braggadocious Floyd "Money” Mayweather did during his Cribs segment. And above the headboard would hang a portrait of me, smiling, with my arm around Jesus Christ, with a caption that reads: “Blood Brothers”, a la the painting Carmelo Anthony so brazenly directed the viewing audience toward during his Cribs moment.

Then the camera crew would follow me outside so I could display to the world that I had more cars than I did brain cells. And none of these cars would actually be parked in the driveway. They’d all be parked on the lawn.

 I’d have a tattoo of my face on my neck, and a greasy ass hightop that I would pay Jermaine Jackson an exhorbitant consulting fee to teach me how to maintain.

I would make it rain hundred dollar bills at the club every night, and sometimes I would do the same while doing regular sh*t. Like I’d purchase premium balcony seats to the Opera, and just start raining down hundreds on the people below during intermission.

My life would be nothing short of an out and out free-for-all. An unmatched spectacle of grandeur, gossiped about over the water cooler, written about on 2^nd rate blog websites, and discussed over Facebook and G-chat, while people momentarily shirked their primary job responsibilities

I would absolutely refuse to conform to the stringent societal regulations that preside over my life as I know it today.

So if I would misbehave in such a manner because I came into money at age 19, why wouldn’t Charlie Sheen choose to detach himself from society, acting a total fool on television every single day at age 45. Hell, in my opinion, he’s about 25 years late.

Charlie Sheen was born to a multimillionaire 45 years ago. Can you imagine being born into a 7 or 8 figure fortune today, let alone in 1965. And I mean like a real fortune. Not a fleeting "I bought a two million dollar McMansion fives years ago with no down payment, and now its only worth 50k and it really doesnt matter anyway because my adjustable rate mortgage ballooned out of control & I'm being foreclosed on because I haven't made a mortgage payment in 20 months, fortune.

By the time he was 21 he was an uber successful movie star. And it’s been a blaze of glory ever since; his life consisting of one movie and sitcom role after another; never having to struggle through the Hollywood slump that plagues so many actors. And the reason, probably because all of the characters he plays are based on his real life persona; a successful, self-indulgent, make no apologies, bachelor, who toasts to triple distilled vodka, wildly expensive champagne, rare imported cigars, and the occasional venereal-ly diseased  prostitute…  I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to see James Gandolfini playing the role of any movie or television character that’s not named Tony Soprano, or John Hamm not being Don Draper. Hell I love Don Draper. My perhaps unhealthy grown-ass-man devotion to him is most evident on twitter, where my handle BlackDonDraper@twitter.com (shameless plug) is on display for all of my 55 followers to see.

But that’s precisely my point. Whereas Charlie Sheen casually amassed a whopping one million followers in a single day, my 12 months and 2,000 plus tweets has produced a pitiful 55 followers.

And all of Charlie Sheens four and a half decades on this earth propelled him to the glorious throne where he sits now, flanked by a "goddess" on each side, as the highest paid television actor in history, clockin an astronomical 2 million dollars per episode. A figure makes no mention his little side gig endorsement deal with Hanes, where he plays Michael Jordan’s goofy, yet handsomely compensated, wannabe golf buddy.

I mean the man has achieved more success than most of us could ever dream. Who am I to dispute that he doesn’t indeed have “Tiger blood” and “Adonis DNA” running through his veins?

If I were to anonymously poll a significant sample size of middle aged men, I’m pretty sure a good number of them wouldn’t mind making upwards of 20 million dollars annually, sharing a roof with 2 half-his-age women of his choosing, in a palatial estate, in Hollywood’s Ritziest zip code. Hell I wouldn’t mind shacking up with a broad, my own age, in a dilapidated one bedroom condo, in the “shady” Eight mile neighborhood of Detroit. (See what I did there. lol).

My point, don’t judge the man. Celebrate him! He’s been fortunate enough in life to attain a measure of freedom, sovereignty and “I don’t give a f*ck-ness” that can only come with amassing an exorbitant amount of wealth.

So while Carmelo Anthony is busy delusionally professing he & Jesus Christ to be siblings, & routinely making equally absurd, yet less sacriledgious comments like "I tip my hat to himself", I prefer to tip my hat to Charlie Sheen. Because in my opinion, his life does not appear to be one that is melting down, but rather, one that has soared above.  He is not subject to the same day to day monotony and frustration that lead so many people down the path of quiet desperation. Quite the contrary, his is a life of illustrious regalia & extraordinary abundance. As he put it, his “Sober Valley Ranch” is a place filled with “laughter, beautiful women, great food, and winning”.  And while Charlie is busy bi-winning, so many of us are out here just trying not to lose.

“People have been raving about my blog, but inquiring as to when it would inevitably plummet toward the depths of obscene ignorance… ...  ... Le fait accompli".