This blog is dedicated to all of the foolishness and ridiculousness that seems to hurl itself at me like a North Korean missile on a daily basis. This is what we'll talk about. And in my more lucid moments we may even talk about things that really matter. ;-)
Greetings friends!!! I know, I know. I've been gone for a minute. Yes, there's been plenty of foolishness running rampant in these streets. But honestly not much has moved me enough to write about.
I mean there was Herman "Big Daddy" Cain and all of his Tiger Woods-y foolishness. ReDICKulous fellated himself and managed to gross out a whole nation of people. Chrissy molly whopped Kimbella. Ghadafi got murked. And then there's the "Frankie Leg". Every single one of those incidents had me damn near death. But not one of them made me feel that feeling in the pit of my belly.
That feeling that's kind of like half gas, half anxiety. The one that makes me feel like I just took a couple spins on a Tilt-O-Whirl after eating 15 funnels cakes. I haven't felt that feeling since the last time Ices Brown dropped down and got her eagle.
Nope. I haven't felt that way in a good long while. Almost forgot what it felt like. Until I saw this....
Look closely children....this is what a real, live dumb ass looks like.
Okay people. Look at this good stuff and concentrate real hard. Maybe you have an answer for the question that I need to ask....
What the entire fuck was this broad thinking?
Now, I've been accused of being a super fan before. In fact I proudly say that I think that Michael Joseph Jackson (R.I.P.) is the greatest of all times! *Muhammad Ali voice* But the furthest I ever went to be closer to him was get a greasy ass Jheri curl and a red, pleather jacket with zippers. No way would I ever get a tattoo of the guys name. And if I did it surely wouldn't be on my forehead in size 40 Courier New font.
And it most certainly wouldn't be a tattoo for Drake!! Drake? Like, seriously? She decides to spend the rest of her days with the softest marshmallow in Hip-Hop's moniker stuck on her forehead? I can't.
Drake is like the frilliest, softest, pinkest dude there ever was. I bet if you poke Drake in the tummy, Jelly Belly's would fall out of his ass.
If you are gonna do something like this, at least pick a guy that's had a murder charge. Or at least a traffic violation. Suge Knight comes to mind. Lil' Kim. Bushwick Bill. Hell, I'd even rather she picked Lil' Boosie.
But Drake?
Nah son.
I'm certain this dude bathes in only the purest of spring waters infused with the scents of lavender and gardenia.
But this chick chose him. The idea of it just makes me cringe. We are talking about Wheelchair Jimmy people. If anything get a tramp stamp of his wheels or that little blue tag that hangs from his rear view mirror. Not a full on brand that makes your dome look like on of those Victoria Secret collegiate shirts.
That tattoo is nothing but a bullseye. She may as well have put "Punch Me" on her head instead. That's pretty much what I want to do. Punch her right between here eyes, about a 1/2" below that "A".
So the other day I read an article on The Huffington Post that pretty much said that there's a group somewhere in the world that that thinks Bert and Ernie should get hitched.
It was by far the dumbest shit that I've had to bear witness to in about 3 weeks.
I'm not gay, so I won't profess to understand the plight of the LGBT community. I have no idea what little LGBT children need. But I'm going to make the assumption that they would need some grownup dumbass messing with their entertainment just so he or she can feel better about....whatever.
This is so unneccesary. Bert and Ernie ain't gay. Not saying that all homosexual men fit into stereotypes of homosexual men but...look at these dudes.
Their wardrobes are not fly. Who really rocks the like horizontal and vertical striped shirts daily for the better part of 40 years? And what about that unibrow Bert rocks? Have you seen the decor in their crib?
Nah, those dudes are living the "I don't give a shit" hetero bachelor life. Sure Ernie sings to a rubber ducky, but I believe this is just a distraction from the fact that he only washes his ass every 2 weeks.
No way these guys are gay.
I personally think they get it in with Zoe and Prairie Dawn. I bet they come to the crib after night night time with Red Bull and Turkey Hill Lemonade and get shit poppin'.
And plus, if you really want to talk about gayness on Sesame Street, why on Earth are folks not talking about having The Count come out of the closet. That dude is the Liberace of puppets. That cape, those jewels, the atttitude. But then again...he could be a pimp. So, nevermind.
People really need to stop inserting grown folks issues into the lives of children. They don't care about this shit.
Look folks, I've been in the game for a long time. I've seen a lot of shit. I've done a lot of things. Some of it I'm not so proud of. Most of it I'm trying to do again.
I'll tell you one thing I've never done. I've never done dumb shit to try to make a man stay with me.
Why? I can't really say for sure. It's probably because I'm lazy as hell and the time and effort that it would take to conjure up some kind of scheme would cut into my sleep time. If you know me, you know I'm serious about my 8 hours (or more) of good rest. Nothing comes between Tee and her z's. Not even the threat of a man leaving me. I just ask that he turn out all the lights and close the door quietly upon his exit. I'll make sure he didn't steal any coins from my Crown Royal bag or silverware when I wake up.
And also, who are we kidding? We are talking about me. Who would really fix his mouth to say he's leaving ME? Any man who is brave enough to depart from the life of one so fine, intelligent, and awe inspiring as Tee has got to be out of his mind and not someone that I need to have in my life anyway.
That's how I know that because of my laziness and overall ability to not really give a shit I would never have to do something like this (if you don't want to deal with all manners of hoodrat folly skip to around 4:00):
Soooooo....there's really a niche for shit like this? Broads are trying to lock dudes down under the guise of delicous snacks and treats?!
If I was Betty Crocker and Duncan Hines I'd sue these heffas like a motherfucker. Talk about complete and utter disregard and disrespect for there businesses objectives. I'm quite sure when they were writing up the business plans they did not list hoes using their mixes as a carrier for potions made from excretions as a goal.
I have so many questions.
What in the entire fuck is really going on with those damn pannies? Instead of trying to keep her man, homegirl should have been somewhere seeking treatment. No way that amount of discharge is ever healthy.
Why does the chef think is cool to scrape yeast out of those said pannies in the sink over what will be tonights dinner? What if some fallout gets in your chicken tenders? Now your babies are following this bitch around like she's Mother Goose.
Why is the camera woman so damn calm? I would have ran from that house dialing 911 and screaming. I don't think I've ever been in the prescence of a sociopath. I imagine sitting in the kitchen with that broad would've felt like chilling with BTK or Ted Bundy on one of their busiest days. No way I would've kept that camera steady. It woulda been like "The Blair Witch Project" in that bitch.
Is this legal? I'm serious. This has got to be some form of assault. And I know when homeboy gets wind of this video there's gonna be another one. I'm not for smacking women around but if dude wanted to get a good grip on her shoulders and shake the shit out of her for this one, I'd totally understand. Shit like this warrants the dispensing of a black eye or two.
Look if there ever comes a point in your like where you think contaminating confections with excretions and/or excrement is the move to make him stay...break up. If nothing that you've done before that point has been enough to make him stay, quit playing you, or act like he has some sense, he's not worth it. Trust and believe he's not going to be changing the chemical makeup of some break-n-bakes for your ass.
Y'all need to stop this shit. Thirst and desperation is so unattractive. Keep acting this way and he's going to be sharing his special cake with his new girl and then your dumb ass will have two aint shit roommates.
Hubby and I will be celebrating 10 years of marriage next month.
Every now and again someone will ask me how we did it. How we have lasted this long in an age where many people don't even bother getting married and the ones that do don't bother staying married. Well, there are a lot of reasons. But, I can narrow it down to three:
1. Prayer 2. Patience 3. Fear of incarceration.
You weren't expecting that third one were you? It's the truth though. In fact, I implore you to ask any person that you know who has been married over 2 years if they've ever considered murdering their spouse. I guarantee 100% of your responses are going to be "Hell YES!!".
This doesn't mean that they don't love their spouse or that they don't care. This just means that they are human. Occasionally some humans can get on your nerves so damn bad that the thought of putting a pillow over their face while they sleep or tossing a radio in the tub with them doesn't really seem like a far fetched idea.
Diabla. That means "she devil".
But they would never do it. Because nobody wants to do life without parole. Well, most of you don't. Some of y'all are crazy. Tee definitely has thought about it. But no way would I do it. Why? See #3. Because I'm small-ish, I'm cute, and I have a smart mouth. That's a bad combo for a person going in with major time. Diabla would make me her bitch in a nanosecond. No fuckin thank you ma'am.
Staying married has been hard fucking work. Really hard. Like think of the hardest thing that you've ever done. Now multiply it by a gazillion. Now tell it you love it. That's marriage. Or at least that's what marriage is for me.
Thing is, because of all of the hard work a beautiful relationship grows. My husband is my very best friend. There is nothing that I wouldn't do for him. Except go to jail (see #3). That's just bullshit. But other than that...I've got his back. And he has mine. That's the payoff for all the blood, sweat, and tears that we've put into this relationship.
So I decided to write this blog in honor of our years together. For some research I posted a status on FB asking my married (and boo'd up) friends to tell me about the greatest lesson they've learned since being married. Let me tell you, they filled my inbox up with all kinds of stuff. But I don't want to go into all of that because my name ain't Dr. Phil and Oprah's hoe ass don't sign my paychecks.
Anyway, they had some really good stuff. Most of it I won't use here. But it was good stuff. So based on their responses and my own personal experience, I've compiled a list for you to use to assist you in making sure your marriage lasts longer than the the life cycle of a fruit fly.
1. Communicate: This is the most major lesson that you have to learn. Bad communication is the death of most marriages. You have to learn to talk to your mate. And by talk, I mean use real words. Word that come out of your mouth. Not text messages and emails. Nothing says I don't give a fuck about you more than: "U R the best bb. <3 LOL SMH :-) ;-)". Sit down, look your spouse in the eye and TELL them everything you hate about them. I promise they will respect you more. And if you get out of the conversation with nothing worse than a stretched collar then you know you got through to him/her. Also, make sure you tell them everything that you love about them. Don't assume that they know. In fact, act as if they don't know shit and make sure you tell them something positive every single day.
2. Honesty is the Best Policy: Fellas, I promise that there is nothing that you've done that your wife doesn't know about. She may be ignoring it right now, but trust me, she knows. So when she asks you about whatever it is, don't lie. Please don't lie. Tell the whole entire damn truth. It will save you a lot of trouble later. And probably some time in the ER. Ladies, even though most men aren't as astute to untruthiness as we are honesty is always the best policy. There's not point in lying when the truth will do. You want your partner to trust you. Trust is impossible if they think you are a liar. And a relationship built by liars or on lies will never last. There are only two exceptions to this "do not tell a lie" rule: (1) Lie to keep yourself out of jail (see #3 above) or (2) Lie to get out of jail. Anything other than that is useless.
3. Give Them the Royal Treatment: Royalty ain't just shit for English folk people. Treat your spouse like they are the Queen or King of whatever little podunk town you're living in right now. In fact, treat them like they are the Ruler of the Universe. [pause]Ruler of the Universe only applies within the confines of your home. We all know that that spot is reserved for Tee.[play] If he's hungry, fix him a plate. Don't skimp, don't complain about him always getting the big piece of chicken. Just do it. Clip his crusty toenails, help him put lotion on his ashy back. Whatever needs he has, fulfill them. If she needs you to go buy tampons, skedaddle on down to the CVS (or wherever she buys her wares) and get a box. Give her a back rub, buy her flowers for no reason, don't complain about her monthly shoe budget. Treating your love like royalty means that you will get the same treatment in return in some way, shape, form or fashion. Everybody wins. Remember that.
4. STFU: Sometimes it's best to say nothing at all. Sometimes lots of yakking and screaming makes matters worse. Sometimes you just have to learn to shut the entire fuck up and LISTEN to what your partner is trying to tell you. You'd be amazed at what you can learn when you are silent.
5. Pick Your Battles: Everything is not worth fighting over. In fact, I've learned that most things are not. This doesn't mean that you let people run over you or always get their way. Not hardly. It just means that the things that you are arguing about are likely not going to matter in the grand scheme of things. Sit back and think about what you are about to go crazy over. Will it really affect your life in such a major way that you are willing to lose out on some good quality time with your spouse by yelling and screaming about dumb shit? I'm not. I'd much rather practice making babies that be mad and giving folks the silent treatment because he won't put the toilet paper on the roll the right way. But that's just me.
6. Laugh: Try not to take everything so seriously. Life is much easier when you can laugh at the foolishness that your encounter (self-made or otherwise) daily. Learn a corny joke and share it. Tell your partner about the dumb shit you did that day. For example, I walked into a closed patio door once thinking that it was open. Knocked the wind all out of myself. Hubby still gets tickled at one. I guarantee your partner is going to do some dumb shit before the day is through. Make sure you laugh at that too.
So, there's a list of 6 things that you can use immediately to make your marriage a better place for the both of you. Now do I always follow these rules? Of course not. But I try to adhere to them more often than not. I believe this is why I'm still married and I haven't had to serve any major time in the clink.
Good luck with your relationships. I hope everyone has the strength and tenacity to make things last for the long haul. Life is too short to be alone and bitter. Be bitter with the love of your life.
The original version of this video has probably caused more seizures than Mary Hart's voice in the 80's.
But this shit right here? I'll bet this months shoe budget that somewhere in the world somebody is experiencing more side effects from this shit than anybody ever had from Phen Fen and lead paint.
Yo....if I was Beyonce I would be super pissed right now. She rocked her ass in her video. I'm talking better moves than TurboAND Boogaloo Shrimp. Anybody that can make the Stanky Leg look that sexy is just.....a boss. I'll give her that and I'm not even a fan.
I'm sure when Beyonce wrote this song she wanted women to feel powerful. She wanted us to feel like we could take on anything. Well, I'm here to tell you that some people got that message and straight twisted the message and took advantage of the community service that Mrs. Knowles-Carter was putting down.
Like Ices. Ices damn Brown. In her quest to empower herself this heffa insists on posting videos exhibiting her total disregard for all things sensical and rhythmic on these innanets.
I'm not sure who keeps sending this broad requesteses but Imma need for you clowns to cease and desist. Because Ices don't need no power. Ices needs to have a damn seat. A whole damn row of them.
And before you go and call me a hater, let me tell you that NO I don't hate Ices Brown. At least not yet, but honestly her videos are putting her really close to Oprah on my list of people to evict from the universe.
Anyway as I was saying, as of this moment, I don't hate her. I simply hate what she does.
I hate that she gets in front of webcams and shakes her jelly on a 4 beat delay. I hate that she's wearing those leggings. I hate that she has to constantly pull them up. I hate that she took this ridiculousness outside in nature and all the woodland creatures in her neighborhood had to be subjected it. I hate that she can't read. I hate that she says "requesteses". I hate that her parents haven't yoked her up and ended her on air shenanigans.
Hold up. You know what? Fuck it. I DO hate Ices. I hate everything that she stands for. And you know what else? I'm blaming Oprah for this.
Just in time for summer grilling: Japanese scientists say they have created synthetic meat derived from human excrement.
The news that Mitsuyuki Ikeda, of Okayama Laboratory, perfected the meat streaked across the Internet. Whether or not the whole breakthrough is a crafty online hoax remains to be seen. But if it's true, the finding -- albeit disgusting -- could have some big implications on food of the future.
A now-viral video examining the purported breakthrough -- dubbed "poop burger" -- said the synthetic meat could be an answer to the high cost and environmental damage of industrial meat production.
Ikeda and fellow researchers claim to have extracted protein from raw sewage to create the meat and added food coloring to make it appear red.
Early taste tests say the meat tastes like beef. _________________________________________________________________________
A shit burger? Oh ok.
Like for real, who the hell sits around and comes up with this foolishness? Who sits at their desk and thinks the thought "You know what would be magically delicious? Some shit. But not just regular shit. Shit that's shaped like a burger."
And where do they find the individuals to taste test this shit? What exactly is the selling point? How do you get someone to come into the office KNOWING they are going to ingest today what somebody's dinner from the night before.
I'm going to tell you right now. There's not enough monetary compensation in this universe for me to allow you to look me in my eyes and say the words "Eat this shit" and my response be "OK". No ma'am. I'm not built to handle that level of disrespect. I'm going to treat you like you've threatened my life. And you know what that means don't you? Suplexes, body blows, and throat chops son. The situation would NOT end well.
Nah. There's nothing in this world that you can promise me to make me sacrifice my taste buds, dignity, and self respect for a patty made from shit. Ya'll can play those kinds of games if you want. I'll stick to lavishing my belly with the flesh of bovine and domesticated fowl.
[Tee's Note] This whole shit burger story is a hoax. But I wanted to write about it because the whole idea of it just made me cringe. I mean really? Who the hell thinks this kind of stuff is funny? For 15 whole seconds I was questioning my status as a carnivore and joining PETA. How dreadful.
All around the country people will be honoring their fathers with greeting cards, cookouts, neck ties, and 3 packs of underwear. They'll be thanking fathers for teaching us life lessons that prevent people from maiming, mauling, and devouring us like they do the weakest of the herd. Showing our appreciation for instilling in us how to use our God given common sense.
My father taught me and my siblings all kinds of stuff. Because of my father I know how to landscape a lawn, tie a sailor's knot, make a 4 course meal for 6 on a $25 budget, and take a person who is 3 times bigger than me down with 3 well placed punches.
One of the most important lessons that we ever learned was "Don't make me look like a damn fool out in public". For most of you that may be pretty straight forward and simple and for that trip, however long it was, you were on your best behavior. But for Daddy, in addition to that it also meant: "Don't embarrass me and your mother by getting caught out there doing dumb shit".
Every time I power up my Dell, I am reminded that all children are not taught this lesson.
For example:
Oh. OK.
So, just so we are clear. Homegirls vagina ain't handicap. I'm glad she let us know. Because whenever I see folks riding big on their Hoveround's and shit that's the FIRST thing I think is "I wonder what that vagina do?" Ain't nothing like a little paraplegia to get those juices flowing. Nah mean?
Did she really say she got the coldest coochie AND the hottest parking spots though? And what about "like my momma said eat your vegetables"?
I can't. I just fucking can't. I don't give a shit if she's in a wheelchair, walking on stilts, or literally has two damn left feet and has to walk around on her elbows. Nothing about this is acceptable. Like do you know how bad life would be for me if I made a video talking about I can't move my knees but I can take it all day?
Nah, my father taught me well. I don't get caught on tape doing shit that will make him want to 1-2 step on my dome. No thanks.
You guys out there have to father your children. You have to teach them how to move out here in these streets. You have to show your daughters that ridiculous acts of thirst and desperation are not the way to go. Tell your sons that tatting a warlock on his face is not the best way to get attention.
I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all of the fathers that care about the way that the world sees you. The one's who spend quality time with their kids and make sure that they aren't posting shit on these innanets that make people think that YOU are crazy for raising such a mucked up kid.
Thank you for being a life-sized delete button on some of these piss poor ideas your kids saw fit to try and share with the world. I appreciate you.
Today we are going to talk about racism. And not just your average, everday, run of the mill Tea Party type of racism. We are going to talk about subtle racism. This shit that you see everyday that makes you go "....that ain't quite right".
It's not always obvious. But it's always racist.
That said, I think I should take this time to tell you that it's impossible for Tee to be a racist. And no, I'm not gonna say it's impossible for me to be racist because I'm black. That's just dumb. I can't be a racist because I don't like anybody. That makes me a generalist.
However, I will say that because of my favorite brand of joke to tell, some people may tell you that I have problems with one particular ethnic group. Such is not the case. I have 3 white friends.
Am I inappropriate at times? Absolutely. Do I say shit most people probably wouldn't say in mixed company? Yep. But that's just Tee. I see things and I point them out. The good, the bad, and especially the ugly. I don't mean to hurt feelings....but I don't mind.
My disdain for most of you has nothing to do with your paint jobs. In no way do I ever say things to make myself look superior to any one group of people, I don't want to be better than anyone.
What I say is always the truth (as I see it). No stereoptypes or racial propaganda. I do what I do to make people think. I hold a mirror up to dumbassness (and we all know that a dumbass can come in any color) and hope that changes are made after the dumbass sees his/her reflection.
But some people aren't as direct as me. They are way more passive with their hatred. Some people would say that I'm too sensitive to that kind of thing, that I worry about things that really don't matter in this day and age. They say I look for racism in everything. Truth is I really don't. I just see it. And when I see it, I point it out. Just like I point out all the other dumb shit I see that I see during my day.
For instance, the other day I decided to send hand-written notes out to friends. I was looking through some note cards and came across a set that portrayed vintage Kellogg's cereal boxes. I initially thought that the idea was cute and was excited to share the cuteness with friends. At least that's how I felt until I saw a Cocoa Crispies on with a monkey tipping his straw hat.
Seriously? This shit ain't appetizing.
This mess ain't cute. Not at all. At least it's not to me.
When you look at that you might see a delightful little chimp loving the hell outta some chocolatey deliciousness.
When I look at it, I see a lot more than that.
I see: cocoa (brown) + crispie (black) + monkey (commonly used as derogatory for blacks). Compund that with the fact that the monkey is wide-eyed, grinning, and tipping his hat like a Sambo and....well...you got a pissed off Tee.
If that wasn't bad enough, one of my friends posted a pic on FB that made me wanna toss eggs at Robert E. Lee's childhood home.
Some people like to rock the Confederate flag. They say it's because they are proud of their Southern roots. I'm sure that's acceptable for most. I mean, I don't necessarily know what people are thinking when they rock a flag that most people view as a pro-slavery advertisement. But I don't knock them, because nobody says anything to me when I rock my dashiki, black fist afro pick, and Malcolm X lavalier. But still, I steer clear of folks rocking that flag, just like most people steer clear of me.
Oh? OK.
Truth be told, I'd rather hang with those folks. Because, I have some sort of idea where their head is at. They are pretty blatant with their shit. Way more than the guy that came up with this "Coon Hunter" shirt. If you didn't know any better, you would think that this guys shirt is promoting the hunting of furry little woodland creatures. If you see what I see, you know that this right here is bull-fuckin-shit.
But freedom of speech keeps me from really being able to do anything about it. That's cool though. When y'all see me with my new t-shirt with a little black girl harming a bowl full Zesta's and the tagline "I Crush Crackers", don't say a word.
I'm not going to point out all the subtle racism that I see everyday. I just hope that those of you who can't/don't/won't see it open your eyes.
And when you see it do like I do and point that shit out. Shine a light on it. Open up your mouth and say:
So by now you know a running theme around these parts is that the end of the world is near. Well, I'm not the only person who thinks this way. In fact, I have this melanin deficient friend, we'll call him Stinkmeiner, that pretty much feels the same way as me. And yes I realize that's an old black man from The Boondocks, but trust me, the attitude is the same. This is why we get along.
Anyways, I asked him how he felt about the whole Harold Camping End of Days debacle. The following are his thoughts on the apocalypse.
_____________________________________________________________________
I was going to come up with some sort of fancy explanation/introduction for who I am and why Tee would request that I write a guest blog entry (specifically about the non-apocalypse), but then I figured you're already going to have to read and/or tolerate and/or be enraged or amused by what I write, so why not spare you the extra pain and let Tee do that instead. I'm assuming she has and that you have already read it. Thus, without further ado:
Countdown to Apocalypse!
Buckle up, kids! The end is Nigh! In 3... 2... 1...
Well...shit. Looks like we should have saved for your college education after all!
For those of you who have been living under a rock, some jackass predicted on his homebrew radio show that the world would end May 21st. Somehow, he convinced a bunch of other jackasses that this was true, and they made a bunch of noise about it and have now slunk away to lick their wounds.
So, in the wake of the recent end of the world shenanigans, we are left to wonder: Now what do we do? The Bronx Zoo Cobra has returned to his home, the world didn't end, and for some reason people continue to watch Dancing with the Stars... (who won? I didn't see it. Oooh, I hope it was Chelsea!). [Tee's Note: I didn't watch it either, but Hines Ward won. Dude, I told you to always bet on black...]
I suppose the easiest thing to do would be to continue to point and laugh, to watch the sad parade of the faithful as they slink back to their homes and their jobs (assuming they still have them). But then, really, where is the fun in that? And, truth be told, they weren't wrong. The world is ending. We just haven't noticed yet. For that matter, it's probably already over with and we couldn't be bothered to look up from our mass-media trough of shit to see it.
You want real signs of the apocalypse? They're everywhere. At this point, you should be expecting a rant about reality TV, fast food, Lady Gaga, Nicki Minaj, Justin Bieber, that stupid girl who made that "It's Friday" song or whatever the hell it is, and every other dumbass thing that young people do and/or like. And you would be right to expect it, all those things are fair game.
But let's look at the bigger picture.
Randy "Macho Man" Savage is dead. Explain to me how that tireless purveyor of the Slim Jim, who should have been so loaded with preservatives, so as to effectively be immortal, has a heart attack and dies while the entire cast of Jersey Shore continues to live?
Or, why we keep churning outResident Evil movies, and Wesley Snipes thinks it's not fair that he has to pay taxes (and I agree, he should be paying me back for that last Blade movie), and oh my God they're really making a Transformers 3 (who watches these things? [Tee's Note: I do. Hater.]) and, oh yeah, Netflix is proud to announce that White Chicks is now available for instant streaming! (To be fair, so is the Jim Carrey version of A Christmas Carol, for which I am still waiting for a personal apology).
I guess what I am saying to you people is, please for the love of God find something better to do! We're lucky that Old Testament God™ promised not to wipe us off the planet again, because man, if I were He (or She--who's to say, really?), I sure would do it! [Tee's Note: Me too. Except, I wouldn't take folks out in one fell swoop. I'd drop folks sniper style. With hopes that people would get a clue before everyone is gone.]
So here's what I want you to do. If you have kids, like, little kids, I mean, ask them what they would like to do this weekend. And, assuming it's possible, do it! Go outside, go to the park, go to Kroger. Whatever they want to do, find a reason and a way to say yes to it, and just go do something meaningful. If you have adult children, call them, and tell them that you are proud of them. Tell them that they have done a good job with their lives, and that you love them. And then...here's the big part...withhold any criticism that you may have. Just keep your mouth shut and enjoy the moment. If you don't have little kids, or adult children, call your brothers or sisters, or even friends. Just make sure that you spend some meaningful time with an actual person that does not involve television, iPad, smartphone, bluetooth, PC, or Mac. That said, for those of you who have teenagers... well, piss on them. They won't appreciate any of it anyway. ;)
So there you go. Paris Hilton is getting another show. There are now 5 different shows where people don't do anything except make cakes. Criss Angel doesn't wash his hair but still hooks up with a Playmate...
You think the world is ending? It's over, baby! Put up a billboard about that!
___________________________________________________________________________
Many thanks to Stinkmeaner for his contribution. I'm pretty much with him.
Now, remember Tee has been telling you that the end is near for quite some time now, but it seems I don't have Yahweh on speed dial telling me all his bizness like Mr. Camping does, so I can't say for sure when it will be.
Anyway, since I don't have Jehovah in my BBM contacts, I figured he sent us a clue when I came across this:
I've always said that walking into Walmart was like entering the gates of Hell. If People of Walmart isn't enough to convince you, this damn sure should be.
Seriously though? P-poppin in a grocery cart? Bussin' it wide open in the pannie aisle? Random dump truck built chicks giving it all they got in the parking lot? I can't.
I would ask who gave these clowns clearance for these shenanigans but...it's Walmart. Nobody there gives a shit about life.
I could go on for days about this one, but I don't have time. I got end of days fuckery to get into (just in case).
And if this don't happen and you see me on the news tomorrow, forward all bail donations to my PayPal.
So this morning, The Kid has really been getting on my nerves. He keeps coming in here asking if he can use my laptop to play games on Disney XD. I told him he could, but apparently I'm not moving my shit fast enough because every 5 minutes he's in here looking at me and then his watch like "Heffa, I was just in here 5 minutes ago".
Who the hell does he think he is? This is my shit! I paid for this. Who the hell does he think he is to be coming at me with these impatient type shenanigans? The last person that came at me like this got a earful of choice words and a file folder tossed at his dome. Well, not really, but I sure wanted to do that.
This little dude can get it though. So I'm not sure why he's coming at me like he don't know me.
I guess my frustration was showing on my face because we just had the following conversation:
Him:Mama are you mad?
Me:Yea. I don't like it when you don't listen. I don't like to be rushed.
Him: Oh, I'm sorry Mama. I just really, really, really wanna play Disney XD.
Me: I know. But you'll get to play, when I say you can play. All this extra stuff you're doing is working my nerves.
Him: Don't be mad Mama.
Me: I'm trying not too. But you're making it hard for me.
Him: Aww, Mama. Don't be mad. I think you're beautiful. More beautiful than anything. But I can't describe it cuz that's like comparing a sunset to a rainbow.*smile*
Me:*totally forgot what I was mad about* Shit. . I'll bring the laptop in a minute baby.
What the hell just happened here? A few sugary sweet words and a smile and he had me doing whatever he wanted. I knew what was happening, but I had no way to fight it. But how did he know to use these types of war tactics on me? I mean, I recognized the game. His father hit me with some stuff like that way back in the summer of 1994 (or was it 1995?) and you see where that got me!
Ugh! This shit is not cool. I've got some survival skills to hone up on. I'm too easy. I gotta start treating him like I treat people in the streets.
Hide your daughters people! He's perfecting his game at 7 yo. Don't ever say I didn't warn you. SMH
I was talking to Hubby last night about some randomness. Our conversation turned to some foolishness that this clown name Rand Paul (R-KY) said about equating universal healthcare to slavery....or something like that.
This dude is a clown. Seriously. How does one even fix their mouth to spout some bullshit like that? Even his homegirl in back was like "Nah son!"
Anyway, I don't want to spend all my time talking about this loon representing the good people of the Commonwealth of Kentucky. While hanging my head in shame at the representation of my home state, I was inspired to write.
People voted for that fool Rand Paul. They actually pushed a button that said they wanted him to be the voice of the people of KY. This got me to thinking. What would the world be like if black people (and I only say black people because I happen to be black and I don't know what you white folks reading want out of life) actually picked a someone to represent them. To speak for them on a national level so that all of our thoughts and opinions and concerns are known by all.
Could you imagine what would happen if black people got together to fight for something that we truly believe in like the Tea Party did? How awesome would that be? I'm not sure what we would call it, The Hot Cocoa Party? The Black Coffee Caucus? The Hot Water Cornbread Coalition? I'll have to think further on this...
*pause* I think I should take some time to let the good white folks (and others) reading this to know that I'm not planning some sort of negroid uprising behind your backs. Don't call Faux News and em on me. *play*
What would happen if we all went to the polls and elected a spokesperson for all things black? I'm not saying that we need an exact clone of Malcolm and Martin. Although, that would be nice. I'm thinking that a leader these days has to be a little bit different than those guys.
Look, don't think that I'm dissing these dudes. That's not what I'm doing at all. Malcolm X happens to be one of the people alive or dead that I would invite to Sunday dinner. I would invite Adolf Hitler too. How crazy would that meal be? I've actually imagined how it would go in my head, but that's a story for another time.
Anyway, I appreciate everything that past leaders and activists have done for the black community. Without their sacrifices of time and sometimes their life, I would not be able to do many of the things that I do today. Like ride in the front of the bus, vote, or spew bullshit via this blog on these innanets.
But like I said before, shit is different these days. I don't want to say that it's because the social climate in the world is different and that these types of leaders not needed. Anybody who believes that is sadly mistaken. The issues that these leaders from the past that I speak of are still a problem today. Hell, some of it is worse. Because of this that I feel like there needs to be someone that we can look to to represent our community on the world stage. Someone who can take our issues to "The Man" (whoever that is) and be a voice for us. Someone who can lead us in protests, sit-in, telethons, YouTube video competitions, revivals, and what not.
But we don't have anyone these days who is capable of doing this. In fact, I'll go out on a limb and say that the people who currently consider themselves the leaders in the black community are truly incapable of leading anything. Well, that's not true. Some of them can lead a whole group of folks into all sorts of foolishness. Eddie Long got a bunch of you thinking that having barely legal boys as travel companions is perfectly fine behavior and Creflo Dollar (and his bottom bitch Taffi) got y'all planting seed offerings at the altar for Lear jets and Maybachs...that you'll only see in Polaroids passed during Wednesday Bible study.
Now I know a couple of y'all pressed pause on that one. Nobody wants anybody to talk about the folks that are supposed to be helping our people reached the proverbial Promised Land. Can't be calling folks pimps and pedophiles all willy nilly.
Welp. I didn't get that memo. Or maybe I ignored it. Tomaytoe, tomahtoe.
It is my opinion that today's black leaders are so full of selfishness and aintshitness that they are incapable of doing anything more that provide a few soundbites and fodder for blogs and local news.
Back in the day a person would start a movement from their front porch, out of church basements and what not. Any injustice qualified as a reason to stand up and say something. These days, if it doesn't get you an interview with Sean Hannity or a guest spot next to Barbara Walters on The View our "leaders" don't want anything to do with it.
Honestly, I don't think black folks could get a grass roots movement for change started if our lives depended on it. Hold up, I take that back. Let somebody ban the use of synthetic yaki or grown men with cornrows and some of you fools will be picketing and singing "We Shall Overcome" like it's 1952. You know who you are.
I know some of you are disagreeing right now. You are probably yelling out a list of folks that have appointed themselves leaders for all those black, brown, yella, and downtrodden.
Well, stop it. Stop it right now. The people you just called out ain't worth a damn.
Let us discuss some of those options please. The way I see it, black people usually pull our pool of candidates for leadership from 3 distinct groups: preachers, intellectuals, and athletes. When you read my list you'll pretty much be able to figure out where everybody goes. Some can fit into more than on category. Some are shaky on fitting into one. And most of them are going to be preachers because that's who we as a people usually look to for guidance and leadership.
So anyway, I present to you:
Your Options
1. President Barack Obama. Well, this one was pretty obvious, wasn't it? n Why wouldn't he be a candidate? He's the leader of the damn free world! Can't get much more leaderish than that. The dude has swagger on a thousand billion trillion! He has an awesome voice. It's like a super, smooth Quiet Storm D.J. When he talks, people listen. Even if they don't want to hear what he has to say. That voice... Okay, enough of that. I'm not trying to have Chelly O going Southside on my ass and pulling out her razor on me.
What were we talking about? Oh yeah, anyway, another thing we have to think about is that just because he's black doesn't mean that all decisions he makes will be for the betterment of black people only. He's the PRESIDENT. He has more constituents to worry about than just those with high levels of melanin. As a side note while we are talking about the President I just thought I'd get out something I've been holding on to for a minute. It seems like some of you folks are confusing this guy with this guy I know named Jesus. You act like this man can wave his hand and the oceans will be stilled. That he's so light on his feet that he won't sink when he steps out on some water. You think that just because he's a brother that shit will automatically be better and different for you. This needs to stop. He's just a man. A man, who happens to be black, who's 9-5 happens to be the POTUS. He doesn't have time for the woes of all black people. Stop acting like he's going to change the world for you personally because of his paint job. So...while POTUS gets my vote for being leader of the free world, it's a nay for him being leader of black folks.
2. Rev. Jesse Jackson. One good thing about this dude is that he can go to foreign countries and get hostages freed. I think he's done it like twice already. I believe this is because he has no real command of the English language and those who speak English as a second language can relate. I only understand every 3rd word that comes out of his mouth. Now I don't discriminate against our brethren who are not fluent in the English, but I won't be voting for their worldwide representation either.
3. Louis Farrkhan. He's nothing like the good Rev. Jackson. He speaks so well! I mean, when the dude talks you gotta listen. He's the best kind of orator because he mingles truth with subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) put downs. He makes you really think about things that are going on in the world. Also, he's pretty easy on the eyes. At least compared to the other guys. I mean if you like that yellow bone, mean side part, $1000 pinstriped suit wearing geriatric deliciousness, I won't judge. Well, I will, but not a lot. Thing is, this man is batshit crazy. He can drop all kinds of well informed jewels, but he'll follow up with some "I've been yanked up by aliens" or "Me and E.T. had brunch at the Four Seasons last week" or "I spent the weekend with my alien concubine and she dropped me off on the White House lawn" type shit and negate all of the positive messages that he put down. I find it truly frustrating. Because sometimes I really want to agree with the dude. But he gets a no from me too.
4. Rev. Al Sharpton, this dude is fearless. I'll give him that. But he has to be. Any grown ass man that will get on a television show that is viewed throughout the whole damn world rocking a hard press and curl has got to have balls the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. No man should ever have hair that looks like it belongs on your MeMaw's wig stand. Do you really want a dude that looks like this representing our people to the world? I sure don't. Also, I fear that if chosen there would be a whole regions of people who would mistake him for Big Worm and then who would take him seriously?
5. Tyler Perry. I picked this guy as an example, because some of you act like his movies and plays are some serious life changing shit. Y'all are really believing that this dude represents the black community through an old broad wearing a bad wig and packing a .45. Y'all can go on somewhere with that. Always saying that there's somebody in your family that "acts just like that". Ummmmm.....no. Plus, nothing good can come from having a leader whose initials are TP. Folks wipe their asses with that. Some people (I see you Spike Lee) want to do that with his DVDs. But that can't be a healthy or safe habit to have. So let's keep our citizens asses chafe free...and keep him over --------->>> there.
6. Oprah Winfrey. Look, if this broad ain't playing Miss Sophia, then I don't want nothing to do with her. She's at the top of my aintshit list. I blame Oprah for everything that's wrong with the world. I blame her for Tyler Perry. I blame her for global warming. I blame her for Myspace. I blame her for Lil Boosie. I blame her for bad lace-front wigs. I think she invented jeggings. Oprah is the root of all evil. But most of you can't see it. You think that she's something special because she's got billions and billions of dollars. *Dr. Evil voice* She's got you fooled. Building schools in Africa and giving away cars with her right hand and doing all kinds of unknown evil shit with her left. I don't know what that evil is. I just know she's doing it. Look at each and every cover of her magazine (because nobody else is worthy of the cover), you can see it in her eyes. Something in the milk ain't clean with this broad. Nah, Oprah gets no vote from me. She ain't right.
7. Kobe Bryant. I almost picked Albert Haynesworth...but...well I won't touch that dude. Not that he would touch me back anyway. I pick Kobe because he has legions of black men hanging from his testicular region right now anyway. He may as well segue all this power into making a difference for all black people. Imagine how proud some of you would be to be able to say Kobe was your representative. I'm sure Vanessa wouldn't let him stay out once the street lights come on, but imagine the shit he could do while the sun is still high in the sky? I heard he's going to have some free time so y'all may wanna put in some calls and get him to figure out what his platform is. But whatever it is he gets a no from me.
Well, that's my list so far. I was going to add Steve Harvey, but I got pissed off at myself for even thinking it.
Anyway, what do you think of my list? I think it pretty much backs up the notion that we're coming up with a big ole 0 when it comes to leaders. But then again it's probably just me being picky. I tend to do that.
And before you ask, no I won't be nominating myself. I'm trying to be ruler of the universe. I don't have time to be dealing with the likes of you.
I know it's been a while people. I apologize, but I've been living that life. Shit got real real in these mean surburban streets and I had to lay low for a while.
Anyways, I need you to check out the following video. It affirmed a theory that I've had for years.
Look, I'm no fan of piss poor customer service. When I go out, I want my meals to be prepared exactly the way that I order them. I like for the food to be delivered to me in a prompt and timely manner. And I want it to be delicious. If I get all of these things, I'm sure to reward the server with far more than the 15% he's supposed to get.
But, even if the service isn't stellar. I won't show my ass in a food joint. Hell no. People who handle my food are #1 on my list of folks I won't ever cut or cuss out. I don't need any foolishness and extra special sauce added to my burger. No ma'am. We don't take those kinds of chances with our nourishment.
Kimesa Smith apparently doesn't have that kind of rule. Kimesa just don't give a shit.
Kimesa is the girl that we all hate to see out in public. Loud, unruly, and all types of ignorant.
I have a hypothesis as to why certain females act this way. It's their face. Piss poor behavior correlates to attractiveness. I know you calling me a hater right now. But stay with me.
Now, I won't go all scientific on you or pull out charts and graphs, but just think about all the uncute people you know. Think about the dumb shit they do. I gaurantee that the more unforturnate the facial situation the higher they score on the dodumbshit meter.
Kimesa's current score is astronomical. See?
All of THAT over a freaking Whopper Jr.?
This broad really stood atop a fast food point of sale counter and showed her entire ass...over the swiftness in which a Whopper Jr. was prepared?
Seriously?
Girl.
You are an irritant. A rash on the ass of the society.
After watching that video I've decided that the "I tend to use the common sense portion of my brain" reflex is non-existent in this person. I'm actually sitting here trying to figure out how in the hell she made it out of a scrotum without making a wrong turn at her Mama's ass.
How does anyone justify this kind of behavior? When is shit like this ever, EVER okay?
Well people, I'm going to tell you why she thought this shit was okay.
Remember my "you act an ass cuz of your face" theory?
There's a reason why the food took so long. The guy who mans the grill probably spent some quality time with the girl that strains the grease trying to figure out where the hell that hairline went. I bet it's been a long ass time since they saw somebody in their spot with full frontal lobe alopecia. Hell, I ain't seen a case this severe since Susan Taylor stopped flossing her fod in every issue of Essence.
While they were in the kitchen trying to come to some definite conclusions about how to notify the authorities about that follicular abduction...time stood still. And homegirl went clean the hell off!
I want you all to look at this foolishness and learn a lesson.
You can't be going into places tossing tables all willy nilly. You can't expect people to treat you the the way they treat the normal citizens of the world if you are going to go around acting like your ass was raised on Pluto.
If you do, you will be judged. People, and by people I mean me, will look at your face, they will look at your behavior, and they will plot that shit on an x-y axis in order to prove random theories that they've made up in their head correct.
I don't know what has to be done to correct this kind of behavior. But while you are figuring out, I'm going to be working on getting this theory posted in some obscure scientific journal.
I'm trying to be great. If I can't cure you fools from your tomfoolery and shenanigans, I'll use it as kindling for my shine.
Every now and again some white folks will get together and do a remake of a hit song recorded by some black artist. Then they post it on YouTube and the version is so awesome that black folks can't help but to shower them with praise, forward the video billions of times, and hurdle them into the coolness stratosphere.
It happened earlier this week with this group called Karmin. They have gone viral due to their uber Caucasian cover of Chris Brown's remix to "Look At Me Now".
I know the innanets are loving these guys, but I'm just not that into them.
Not because they don't have talent. It's obvious that they do. It's just everytime I see this video and especially after seeing their performance on Ellen this afternoon, I see this:
I spent last weekend in Las Vegas. It was super fabulous! I haven't had that much fun in a very, very long time. I love visiting that place and I know I'll be going back sometime soon.
Actually, I think I could live there. I mean, gambling is not an issue for me. I hate to lose and if I get rid of my scratch it's going to be on something I to accessorize my fabness or fill my belly.
But please don't think that becase I don't make a habit out of gambling that I don't know what I'm doing when I sit down at one of those tables friend. You should know that I straight housed this sweet little dealer named Helen from Taipei, Taiwan (it was on her name tag) for quite a few chips on the Blackjack table. I'm sure she'll be telling stories about my greatness for many years to come.
Anyway, like I was saying, I could live there. Not because of the gambling or the shopping, but because that place is the people watching mecca of the world!! Oh Em Gee!! So much damn foolishness and shenanigans going on!
I'm serious. I seriously had to take a seat on Las Vegas Boulevard. My mind literally overloaded on ratchetness and I shut the hell down. Some might say it was the delightful mix of sun + likka + lots of wholesome goodtimery that caused the blackout. But...nah....I can't say I'm going to blame it on that.
It was the frilly guy in all pink errthang highstepping down the street like his name was Naomi Campbell. (For the record, I totally didn't mean to snap my fingers and scream "WERKKKKK BITCH!!!")
It was the very husky girl in the extra petite booty shorts.
It was dusty Spiderman in a size smedium costume showcasing a ridiculous amount of moose knuckle.
It was the group of young men sprinting down the street in knee high argyle socks, suspenders, and very skimpy manties in an array of Springtime colors..
It was the guy in front of the M&M store who was so drunk off of his ass that he had to travel on his hands and knees, finally giving up and taking slumber on the sidewalk.
It was the one woman flash mob dancing to the music in her head in front of the Venetian.
There was plenty more, but just thinking about it is causing my heart to race.
Like I said, total shenanigan overload. But I loved every damn minute of it. I did have to hit a buffet to recuperate. But that hat didn't work out like I thought it would. Because as I tried to eat my plate of cheesecake and various other sugary sweet delectables, I watched one of y'all's MeMaw down a whole bottle Pinot, some crab legs, and a couple slabs of ribs. And then she proceeded to cuss out PaPaw for taking too long to help her up so she could get more.
Anyway, despite my near death by foolishness experience, I would totally pack my bags and move to the desert. That shit is the bomb!
Next time some of y'all will have to go with me! It would be such an awesome time.
Just be warned that if at any point in time I slow down and start walking 10-15 paces behind it's because I'm taking in some YOUR ratchetness and likely taking pics to preserve your shenanigans for a time when giggles are slow to come by.
So today some friends and I were talking about compliments. We had run across a blog were the girl was super upset that someone had called her "cute". Apparently, because she was a grown ass woman being called anything but "grown and sexy" is offensive.
I can dig it. There are a lot of things that people call me that I don't particularly care for. One of them is "shawty". I happen to be on the smaller end of the stature stick, but there's not reason for folks to be rubbing it in my face. I have to own up to it every time my 7 year old has to get something off the top shelf for me. OK, so I know it's some pseudo term of endearment for folks that live down South, but damn, some of us are sensitive. Shit.
Anyway, I don't particularly think "cute" is a bad word. Mainly, because I think I'm cute. I have a delightfully appealing face. I'm just that awesome. If more people in the world were as cute as me, we would have world peace and the economy would stabilize.
Alright, I'm getting off topic. My awesomeness is not what I wanted to talk about today. What I wanted to say was, sometimes people think that they are giving you a compliment when it could quite possibly be the absolute wrong thing to say.
For example, today I wore my hair wrapped. Think Erykah Badu in the "On and On" video, but not as huge. Anyway, a coworker says to me "Tee, I love your headpiece. You look so warm and interesting. You always put yourself together so well."
Warm and interesting? What the fuck does that mean?
Warm and interesting? What the hell do you do with that? Most of you would say "say thank you you dumbass", but I really didn't want to.
Why?
Because I'm me. And I know that when I say things like a person looks "warm and interesting" it really means that they look like a hot, steaming, fresh pile of shit. Warm and interesting sounds like a way a dude would describe his girlfriends homely roommate when he's trying to hook her up with one of his friends. Warm and interesting is eating a nice, hot plate of mystery meat. Warm and interesting are fighting words. A damn declaration of war. That's what the hell warm and interesting are. Shit.
And I was kind of offended by the "you put yourself together so well" comment too. I mean, we were at work. The fuck I'm supposed to do? Come in there looking like I was rooming under the overpass with Ted Williams? I work in a professional environment, looking put together is part of my job. Tomorrow, I'm going to wear a pair of pajama pants and my son's Transformer house slippers. See what she thinks about that.
I'm sure I'm being overly sensitive. My husband thinks that I am. I guess I should concentrate on the fact that what she said was positive overall. But, whatever for that. From now on I'm going to be dropping all kinds of underhanded jewels on her ass. She's not going to know what hit her.
And I would totally rock Hubby's oversensitive argument if a different coworker hadn't come to me about an hour later with this foolishness: "Tee. You look so pretty! I love those colors in your headwrap. You look very African!"
Say what?
Really, ma'am? Really? I mean, in case you haven't noticed I'm black. At last count, I'd been black all my life. I look African every damn day.
Seriously though. Where do I find the compliment in that? I need someone to show me. Because if I had said some shit like, "Guten Tag, Betsey. You looking really German today" somebody would have filed a grievance on me.
Now for those of you that know me in real life, you know that NOT saying what I wanted to say was hard. Acting with tact and diplomacy in these types of situations is rather difficult for me.
You know that if this had happened over on MLK, Jr. Boulevard things would have been way different. I totally would have given those old hoes an epic beatdown. Verbally and otherwise.
The world would've been 2 grandmas short. That's all I'm saying.
You people need to get your acts together. You can't just be popping off with this kind of shit all willy nilly. It takes skill and complete disregard for humankind and their feelings to combine a bullshit compliment with a lightweight diss and come up with something so devasting that it makes your self-esteem dig a hole to China.
If you can't do that, just keep your piehole shut. You're only going to piss me off.
I don't profess to know everything, but I try my damndest to make up something so that I have an answer for all questions. Most of my answers come from what I call my "theories". Just about everything that I say, all of my non-religious beliefs usually can be traced back to one of my theories. Most are pretty random, but they all make complete sense to me. So much sense that I will debate you to within an inch of your life using just my brain and the foolishness floating around in it as a reference. My husband hates that. I'm sure most of my friends do too.
I've decided to share some of my less controversial theories with you today. I didn't want to give you too much because my shit would get red flagged quicker than a direct BBM to Kim Jong-il.
1. Every woman is one menstrual cycle away from starring in her own episode of Snapped.
When you are on your period there is always an XY close by doing the dougie on your last good nerve. What is it about this time that makes even a mute dude want to speak up and ask a million dumb questions? Seriously? How many different ways can you explain that it feels like the devil and his minions decided to build a pup tent on your ovaries and spend their free time dancing a jig up and down your uterine wall and you just want to be left the hell alone? I've counted 43,672 that I've used on my own. Maybe you have more.
2. Even the lowest of LSEs can find love on the innanets.
Thirst and desperation are running rampant in these streets folks. Some of the things that people do for attention just boggles my mind. I don't recall ever being able to photos of folks privacy without having to pay for access on a special site. Folks are doing all kinds of unnecessary stuff for attention. Like choreographing wack moves and dry humping electronics during these dance routines. Or a grown man covering himself in bubbles while basking in the glow of candlelight. I'm sure there are other ways to show off your Mama's garden tub. Stop it.
3. Politicians are not in politics for the betterment of the people, they are for the enhancement of their ego.
The threat of the government shutdown pretty much solidified my opinion of all politicians. Their level of aintshitness is above and beyond that of any other ainshit individual on this Earth. I believe that everyone who knows someone who would have been directly or indirectly affected by the shutdown should examine how this issue was handled by BOTH parties. Look at this and they way that other decisions that have affected policy have been made and make sure that you use this information to make an informed decision at the polls in 2012.
4. The Devil invented reality television.
I honestly never thought that I would get to the point where I would utter the following statement, but...I'm totally and completely over reality television. I'm convinced that the Devil and his minions have taken root in my HDTV. In the past week I've seen people participate in every deadly sin and every Commandment was broken at least twice. Now I don't profess to be the most religious person, but there's only so much sloth, greed, adultery, and coveting that my heart can take. That said, whenever I watch most shows, especially the ones with "wives" I feel like committing murders soooo......
5. The world will end soon because the Good Lord doesn't want the kids of today to be the leaders of tomorrow.
Have you ever heard of Ices Brown*? I rest my case.
6. Being an aintshit individual qualifies you to give advice on love and life.
Steve Harvey and Tyrese are best-selling authors these days and their books are not about telling jokes or singing songs. They are in the self-help category. Four marriages, a few mistresses, a bullshit Wendell Williams interview, and at least one domestic violence arrest between them. Just marinate on that for a moment.
7. The people who create the menus at Denny's are employed by Ghadafi (or maybe Castro).
Now I like a crispy piece of pork deliciousness as much as the next person. In fact, I'm not ashamed to say that Oscar Mayer thick cut applewood smoked bacon gives me immense amounts of joy. But anybody that tries to accelerate the death of the American people via high cholesterol with shit like "Baconalia" can't be for us. At all. I don't give a damn what you say.
8. Male aintshitness is genetic.
I don't care what folks say aintshitness is not learned behavior. I know some guys that ain't been worth a damn sense the day they were born. I'm not scientist, but I'd venture to say it's attached to the Y chromosome and that it activates at some point after conception but before the balls drop. You might think I'm hating on dudes, but I know for a fact that a child can be as aintshit as a grown man. For example, The Kid chumped me for damn near a month when he was around 9 months old. He had me picking him up and carrying his deadweight ass all over the place thinking that he couldn't walk but was actually moving and exploring the daycare like his name is Matthew Henson. But let me come around and he'd sit down and pretend like he had no use of his lower limbs. Aintshitness. At 9 months old. Eye color, hair color, height, aintshitness: you get them all the same way.
9. The economy has affected hoshit.
After having such an awesome 2010, 2011 ain't turning out so good for the hoes. New hoes impressed by the previous years returns have saturated the market. Supply is far greater than demand. Couple that with a recession and you get rappers are tossin' hoes out of front seats into the streets because $150 couldn't seal the deal. Gloria Allred can't get a jumpoff a book contract, reality show, or record deal. Chicks are twitter beefing over rappers with a hit and a half. Times are hard people. Good, clean ho type fun is no longer where it's at. I blame The Tea Party.
Well, that's all I can give you. Like I said, I have plenty more, but I totally don't want you to think that I'm a loon so I'm going to keep the rest to myself.
Oh, and sorry it took me so long to post something. Life has been pretty hectic lately. I'll try to neglect my family and other responsibilities a little more so I can write for you guys on a regular basis.
*Just thought you all should know that Ices Brown is sign #45939348293-344d and #12385485739 that the world is coming to an end.
So some friends and I were talking about this Pole Dancin' for Jesus class the other day. Honestly, it was kind of hard to wrap my mind around the idea of it. Maybe it's because in most of the strip clubs I've ever been to there's nothing really holy going on. So it's kind of hard to reconcile the idea of bringing church there.
I really didn't think much of it because it seemed to be a novel idea that probably wouldn't go further than that gym in Texas. Boy was I wrong....
Am I supposed to take this guy seriously? Did I really just see this so-and-so work that pole like one of Magic City's finest...for Jesus? Where did he learn how to do this? Why is the pole sitting by the front door? Is this how Christians greet their guests in 2011? Do you have to climb to the top and drop into a split while praying before you can take a seat or be offered libations? Is this some new millienium praise dancing? If so, what part of the bible is he interpreting for us? 'Cause I surely don't recall a Book of Bullshit...but I haven't read my copy of the Dead Sea Scrolls lately so I can't say for sure that that book does not exist.
When I go to church on Sunday will Pastor be introducing "The Ass-Clappin' Angels" or some other high-flying, lap dancing, praise dancing troupe? Will the deacons be making it rain on the alter? Will I need to pack extra dollars for a special building fund collection? I need to know now. Because I'm liable to fall out if I see it. And it won't be because of the Holy Ghost.
Look, I don't wanna knock this man's ministry but....something in the milk ain't clean! And honestly it's not just because of the pole. It's because it's a DUDE. A DUDE working the pole...for Jesus. Not saying that a broad giving it all she's got for the Good Lord is a good thing but...it's not a DUDE! Then again it could be I'm just a little jelly. I can hardly do a push-up, so I damn sure know I can't do what he just did...
I take that back. I know I could, but there would be lots of alcohol and debauchery involved. Definitely no Jesus. And it wouldn't be caught on tape. Tee's ho shit is for mental recall only.
I swear I don't know what to do with this. He's praising the Lord in his own way so I don't want to say that he shouldn't but....I really don't think he should be doing this. Am I wrong? What do you good people think? Is pole dancing for Jesus a good thing? Or is this dude just a heathen trying to hustle his way into Heaven with some foolishness?
I meant to post this yesterday, but I was on some other stuff and fell asleep before the street lights came on. A post I saw on my FB newsfeed reminded me though.
It's a day late, but you'll get over it once you check out this oldie but goodie. Real live Irish foolishness in the middle of the hood.
Things about this video that KILL.ME.DEAD:
"I want dat gold!!"
The leprechaun flute. Passed down from from his Irish ancestors. Hilarious.
"It could be a crackhead dat got aholt of the wrong stuff!!!"
That damn eyewitness sketch!!! Lawd hammercy it brings me to tears err time!
Thanks to the homie ReaLM for bringing this one back!!!
My insomina was rewarded when I found the following gift in my inbox. Thanks to The Gladiator for this little piece of heaven.
I'm totally anti-bully. As a person of a smaller stature, I know what it's like to have people pick on you just because it seems like an easy win. And as a person of a smaller stature I totally understand how the video below got to the point that it did.
On any given day, you could ask my brain how tall I am and it would give you a severe *side-eye* and say "Can't you see? Tee is 10 feet tall." You can't tell me that I'm not head and shoulders above all folks walking on these streets right now.
And my attitude reflects this.
But my brain will also tell me when I'm about to do some very, very stupid shit. And since I'm not stupid, like the kid in this video, I usually pause and reflect on the dumb shit that I'm about to do. It usually works, sometimes it doesn't, my criminal record* reflects that.
Anyway, like I said, I'm not stupid. I may talk a lot of shit. Most times I can back it up on my lonesome, but I know when to seek assistance. And by assistance I mean a big stick or a brick. Lil' man in the video should have listened to his brain...
I didn't mean to laugh, but....oh hell, yes I did. Homeboy got ROCKED! And you can really tell that the other kid didn't want to do it. He was forced. It was self-defense. And THAT'S why this was extra hilarious. The little one really thought he had a win, started dancing like he was Mayweather and errthang. *snicker*
In my head I imagine that the conversation leading up to this incident went like this:
Backstory: The little one, Pee Wee, has been messing with the big one, Baby Huey, for weeks now. Tossing paper clips at his head, stealing his lunch money, talking about his Mama, pinching him and shit. Baby Huey never reacts. This has made Pee Wee grow very, very, very big balls.
Pee Wee: 'Sup Huey, I told you in 3rd period I was gonna end your life today!
(Pee Wee's brain: Dude...he's kinda huge...I don't know...)
Baby Huey: Hi.
Pee Wee: Hi? That's all you have to say when I'm about to send you home crying to your big, fat Mommy?
(Pee Wee's brain: His MOM?! Oh shit..hes gonna kill you! Stop!)
Baby Huey: Don't talk about my Mom.
Pee Wee: FUCK your Mama! Your Mama is soooo UGLY, you Daddy had to visit her at the Zoo to go on dates!!
(Pee Wee's brain: Dude...stop. Cease and desist. You don't have to do this!! Just keep cussin and back away slowly...)
Baby Huey: That's really not nice.
Pee Wee: Not nice? Imma show you not nice! *one punch* *two punch* *three punch* *four....*
(Pee Wee's brain: Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Run dude!! RUN!! OH SHIT!! I'm upside down...I don't think I'm supposed to bounce around like that! Man down! Man down!)
So Pee Wee didn't listen to his brain. He listened his friends and he ended up with a damn TBI after getting choke slammed on the hard concrete.
I wonder if he could even rember his name after that jostling? Probably not. But I bet you I know a name he will never forget in his lifetime: Baby freakin' Huey. He shut shit down. And he didn't say one word.
Nothing good can come from picking on folks. Nothing good at all. Even if you think you are the biggest and baddest kid on the block, reconsider bothering people just because you want to be entertained. Because it is usually YOU who become the entertainment for people like me. And I promise you Pee Wee, I'm going to be laughing at you for a very long time.
I hope that little pint-sized jackass Pee Wee has learned his lesson.
I hope that school has a video yearbook or a time machine that they can put this in and preserve it for all of eternity. EVERYBODY needs to see this and see that bullying is so not worth it. Especially not if you want to be able to spend your life concussion free.
I'm getting LASIK! I'm so happy. I can't wait to get rid of my glasses. The Kid isn't really feeling it though.
Me: Hooray!! I'm going to have surgery!! I won't need glasses anymore!!
Him: Surgery?
Me: Yep! The doctor is going to use a laser to reshape my eyeballs and make me see clearer! Awesome right?
Him: Uh...sure.
Me: You don't think that's awesome?
Him: I mean. It's okay I guess...what are you going to do with your glasses?
Me: I don't know, I won't need them.
Him: So you won't wear them anymore?
Me: No. I won't need them.
Him: I like your glasses.
Me: You do?
Him: Yes. I think you are very pretty with your glasses.
Me: Awwww! How sweet! Do you think I'm pretty without them?
Him: *silence*
Me: Hello!?!?! Did you hear me? Do you think I'm pretty without them?
Him: Well...yeah. But I like the glasses better.
Me: Why?
Him: Because they cover your face.
I tell you what people. If I didn't have any self-esteem, this kid would have me looking for some rope and an empty closet. What the hell?
Today's Random Thought is brought to you by the letter E.
It was inspired by this commercial that I've been seeing for the past several months. I know you all have seen this before. Every time I see it I giggle. Because Kelly, really thinks she's jamming. All while dressed like she works in Mel's Diner and serving up a platter full of ketchup and mustard. And because the little ditty she's singing sounds like it was produced by Soulja Boy. It's like a high school level Conjunction Junction. How dreadful.
It's actually kind of insulting that the person in charge of creating this foolishness really thinks that this little girl posing as the long lost white member of The Sugar Hill Gang doing some low budget karoke will make people want to learn. Well, it's insulting to me. I'm sure there where thousands of people watching this at the same time that I was that said, "Damn! Now THAT'S a good idea!!"
The dehumanization (is that a word?) of education really makes me sad. You go to this website, fill out a questionnaire, and be matched to the online program that is right for you. It's like eHarmony and Match.com, but instead of an MRS you get a BS or MD. I'm sure it's a good way to go for some but...I would want to do more to personalize my education experience than choosing a cute wallpaper design for my profile.
I think some people are missing out on some of the best parts of going farther than living room for school. This new way to learn is killing the real-world skills of our youth. All they know how to do know is poke, tag, inbox, and IM. If any of them had to actually socialize with people in person they would probably piss their pants.
Remember when people actually visited schools to see what they had to offer? When the performance of the basketball and/or football team was a factor in your choice? When getting back to your dorm room from the local watering required you to use all the physics, algebra, and geometry you had learned during the week? When you had to actually look your professor in the eye to lie to him about why you didn't have your paper completed on time?
