I.Will.Kick.Will.I.Am's.Will.I.Ass

For the past few years, I've been having to deal with people asking me if I'm Will.I.Am from the Black Eyed Peas. I take offense to this for several reasons. First of all, Will.I.Am dresses like Mary Poppins if Mary Poppins were a Black man. I do not dress like Gary Poppins. Secondly, Will.I.Am has dreadlocks and the tender swagger of an African Leprechaun. I have neither.

Before I get into why I will kick Will.I.Am's ass, let me give you some background. I've been looking like famous people my whole life. Folks have been coming up to me since I was 5 telling me how much I look like some famous dude. It's part of the reason I call myself Sumkid. I always look like somebody else, or familiar to people for no reason. I even get compared to Frylock....it's ridiculous.

So let's flashback to where it all started..... North Carolina, 1984, with a little potbellied 30-year old named Webster....

THE WEBSTER YEARS:

In the early 80s, my mom used to work out at this place called "The Sports Club" in Fayetteville, NC. At the time, it was a state-of-the-art gym facility with dozens of basketball courts, raquetball courts, spas, weight rooms....this thing was huge. It was like the Death Star.

Most importantly, they had frozen yogurt, which to me was like space food. I couldn't understand how something so good and so sweet and so white and so cold wasn't ice cream. It was a brand new world for me, so I would beg my mom to take me with her so I could eat myself into a diabetic coma while she played raquetball with some redneck in a glorious mullet. I would sit and eat my yogurt while she killed everybody in the Death Star on the raquetball court for hours on end.

Eventually people started coming over to me and pinching my fucking cheeks telling me I looked like Webster. At first, I would deny it...but then people started giving me money and snacks and treats and shit cus I was so cute, so I'd roll with it. Then eventually, I even started performing for them. Here's some footage of one of my performances:

My cute, monchichi years were doomed by a long and awkward adolescence. I got glasses, grew a high-top fade, my face and legs got all gangly and I was a well-read little dude. All of which came just in time for TV to unveil one of its most well-known and beloved teenage coons, Steve Urkel.

I was fucked.

THE URKEL YEARS:

My Urkel years were marked by my own mother and random people running up to me and screaming "Did I do thaaaat??" in my ear. At first it was funny. But to this day if I see Family Matters coming on TV my chest gets tight and I want to have a drink. What made it worse is that my glasses turned into sunglasses when I went outdoors, so I looked like a total asshole when I came back to class after playing basketball at lunch. Imagine Urkel in your 8th Grade English class wearing sunglasses. That was me. But even Urkel had endearing qualities....he was a hopeless romantic, an intellectual, and after years of hard work, persistence and heartfelt stalking, he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.... so I guess we had some things in common after all.

But the adorable years were coming to a close, and slowly but surely people started comparing me to somebody not nearly as cute and adorable as Webster, or as loveable as Urkel.

THE SCOTTIE PIPPEN YEARS:

Really? Scottie Pippen, White people? I say White people, because at this stage of my life, it was only White people sayin' this shit....

And I took personal offense to this one because this dude had no personality and his head looked like a freshly bruised yam. I mean, this is the best picture I could find of the dude. He doesn't look so bad here....maybe even good-looking. But he still kinda looks like he washes his face with a pencil eraser.

I was IN Chicago during the Jordan/Pippen administration, and outside of the magic those guys were on the court, it was not a fun time for ya boy.

But he was a damn good player. And I'm glad the mufuckas won some championships. It made my transition into the 2Pac years that much sweeter.

The 2Pac Years:

You know, I actually haven't left my 2Pac years completely. The older I get, the less they come, but every once in a while I get the "Anybody ever tell you you look like 2Pac?". Now granted, that mostly comes from 50-year-old white guys in Hawaiian shirts, but it makes it all worth it when the ladies ask. Cus you know....the ladies love Pac. Usually, to get the 2Pac comparison, I have to go bald-headed and beardless, which is becoming less and less acceptable these days. I gotta have some hair on my chin or else I look like 2Pac if he was washed up and started making excercise videos or family sitcoms.

So when I started keeping hair on my face...the game just got deeper. 2Pac was just the beginning of this new trend in my resemblances. I started looking like dead people.

The Marvin Gaye/Isaac Hayes Years:

Now THIS.....this was enjoyable. Everybody loves Marvo. He could sing, he was attractive, he did massive amounts of drugs and died a tragic death. That's something I could rock with. And in all honesty, I don't actually see any resemblance....but I'll take it as long as yall give it.

In a similar fashion, James says I look like Isaac Hayes, particularly when I'm bald with a beard. But then again, if I wear glasses and a hat he says I look like Spike Lee and if I wore a suit he'd probably call me Barack Obama or Morgan Freeman.

I'll Kick Will.I.Am's Ass....Unless he wants to do a song with me:

So on Saturday, I'm moderating this hip-hop forum for the children. This girl comes up to ask me if I'm in The Black Eyed Peas.

Now, out of all the comparisons I've ever gotten in my life:

1) This is the most repulsive to me

2) I get this one more than ANY

It raised a bunch of questions in my mind and heart....What am I supposed to do with this? I don't want to look like this dude, but if I do....what am I going to do with my life? Do I dress like Gary Poppins, or have a tender swagger?

So I challenge Will.I.Am to a boxing match. Me and him in the ring....five rounds. I want people to see us side by side, but I don't want to be standing next to him. I would rather punch him...but not to hurt him. Just punching him for sport is all. I'd like to do this so people can see how different we are. If anyone knows him, please reach out to him and tell him I'd like to organize a boxing match with him, and we can do it for charity and donate the proceeds to a cause of his choosing.

Immediately after the match, we can rock a show and call it all peace. He can ride off into the sunset on his bicycle, and I will at last be loosed of this curse.

Who am I going to look like next?