It's Been A Long Time...I Shouldna Left You

The following post is a summary of why I thought the Mayan calendar was right and that shit was gonna get really real for us on December 21.

A few months ago a friend of mine (and I use the word friend loosely) sent me this jewel from a precious little lamb named Trinidad James: 

It took me a full 7-10 business days to realize this shit wasn't a joke. Like this dude is dead damn serious. Rapping about mollies, gold, and niggas. All while looking like he just might be one of the last folks to step off the Underground Railroad.

I just knew that this guy was a sign that the Mayans were right. When he signed a record deal with Def Jam, I went into Doomsday Prepper mode. I hit Safeway shelves for non-perishables, toilet paper, batteries, and bottled water.

Then this happened:

A Tyler Perry movie that I think I want to see. I don't think I have to say anything more. Just know that after this happened, I began watching the sky for locusts and checking to see if the Patapsco River was flowing blood instead of water.

One of my followers sent me a video. It's Ices Brown. I said a little prayer before I pressed play. Then this happened:

First of all...why is this chick so damn greasy? Look like she bobbed for wings and thighs in Precious' bucket of chicken. This purple shirt got her giving all kinds of Grimace realness. And don't even get me started on the fact that she don't even know the words to the dang song!!

When I tell you I got down on my knees and prayed to the Good Lord for help?!? Y'all just don't understand. Ices took me to the edge and I was gonna voluntarily take a swan dive off. I also seriously considered tunneling a bunker under my apartment building. When things like this are happening in the world, you just can't take chances.

But even with all of this calamity, the world didn't end. Sweet Baby Jesus' Daddy said he chooses the hour and the minute that the world's rotations stops. It's gonna be a surprise. But that doesn't mean that y'all can keep letting foolishness happen. We have to stop giving him reasons to push fast forward. 

Let's do better in 2013. Please.

Election 2012: Real Life Foolishness

2012 is an election year. I'm not going to talk about who you should be voting for. I'm not going to discuss whether or not your decision is right or whether it's wrong.  In fact, I'm not going to say much at all.

I'm gonna let this here picture speak for itself. I'm just going tell you that as much as I *heart* ratchetness and tomfoolery, this kind of ignorance is not acceptable.

Word?

Shirts like this let me know that as much as people would like to say that things are different, they really aren't.

This Is Your Brain On Drugs - Sponsored by iPhone 5

OK so this foolishness was posted on my FB wall today by TuTu83. I'm not going to spend a whole lot of time on this one because you'll see why I was LMAO in a minute.

I just feel like I need to do my D.A.R.E. representative duty and tell you all that drugs and alcohol are bad for you.  They fry your brain and make you sit in lines for shit that you don't even know about.  They make you share information that nobody cares to know.  They make you give permission to random street reporters to tape your dumb ass and post your interview on line so that millions and millions of the world's citizens can laugh at you.  And you won't remember any of it in the morning.

Jesus be a 12 step program and some solitude for Rachel.  She needs some help for reals.


(source)

Straight From The Inbox: Simple Math

My friend Mr. Bigg sent me this. Just thought I'd share. LOL

Notice Purple

I started a new writing blog.  Check me out at www.noticepurple.com.

Miss Barbara vs. USA: Roy Wood Jr. Prank Call

This an audio of a prank call made a few years ago by comedian Roy Wood, Jr. It  was gifted to me by my friend The Lovely Lucian. It's full of ratchet behavior, verbal abuse, and threats of physical harm.  You know, all of the things that Tee is so universally known for.

Background: Dr. Sidmon Abizo calls Miss Barbara to inform her that her monthly Social Security check will be cut by $250 in order to help Hurrican Katrina victims, gas prices, and some other stuff.  Hilarity ensues.

Get into it.

Real Talk: Are You There God? It's Me...Tee.

It's official. I need to make some changes in my life.

I've been trying to write this post for a few days.  I don't really know what to say.  I can come up with 35 wpm when it comes to fuckery and foolishness, but my real life issues? I'd rather not say a word about it.

I guess you could say I'm a pretty private person.  

No, I am a severely private person.  I can count on one hand the number of people that know something inherently personal about me that I shared with them (rumors don't count).  I just don't make a habit of talking about me.  This means nobody really knows what my real fears are, what my real dreams are, or even how I'm really feeling about life on any given day.

I pretty much subscribe a universal nunya policy.  Meaning: it's nunya damn business unless Tee wants to share.  And I usually don't want to.

Which leads me to this post.  Over the past few weeks I've had several different people tell me the exact same thing about me.  Some of these people don't know each other.  And the ones that know each other don't talk to each other in a way that they would share information.

So...how would they know to give me the same exact message?!

I can only put that on God.  I said a prayer a few months ago.  I won't go in to complete detail about what I prayed for but direction and confirmation where in there somewhere. 

So what was the message? Well, apparently people think I should write.  Blog, books, articles, and shit like that. Imagine that.  What's funny about this is, I kind of always wanted to be a writer or at least work in the literary industry in some capacity, editing or proofing or something. But I've always been too afraid to really go after that dream.

Why?

Because me and failure ain't friends.

I'm deathly afraid of things not working out for me.  So much so, that I'd rather not try something than to say I couldn't complete it. The fact that I'm even sharing this kind of pisses me off.  But I feel like if I say this "out loud" one of y'all will hold me accountable.  You'll ask me a question about progress.  You'll call me out for inactivity.  You'll make me feel all silly and I'll HAVE to do something. 

Unless I don't. Which could happen. Because like I said sometimes I let fear dictate my decisions.

So, I'm going to make a promise to myself right now.  I'm at least going to try.  I have no idea where to start.  I'm clueless on what to write about. But I'm going to try.

In the meantime in between time, maybe ya'll could help me.  Give me some ideas.  Maybe that will spark something in this cavernous hole where Tee's brain should be. Virtually give me a kick in the butt.  And I do mean virtually, because if any of you try it in real life you gonna be hobbling around on one leg for the rest of your days. 

I'll try to have something complete before the countdown clock hits zero and the end of days is here. Ices Brown is gonna make this hard for me so I know I'm gonna have to step my keystroke game all the way up.

Republican National Convention = An Insomniac DREAM!!

I'd like to thank all of my friends for their RNC commentary this week.  

I usually try to keep up with all things political, especially in an election year.  But I legit couldn't keep my eyes open when I turned it on.  That mess was a like a real live melatonin OD. I'm talking the kind of sleep that so deep that you wake up and have to take a few minutes and remember where you are! 

An insomniacs dream.  

Reeps should bottle it up and sell it.  

Good night.

Conversations with My Son: A Cinematic Experience

Have you ever had a conversation with a child that made you realize that you are no where near as smart as you thought?

That maybe instead of working, you should just go back to school and learn some more shit, because what you know is obviously not enough?

I'm currently having that kind of conversation with The Kid.  We are watching one of his favorite movies Avatar.  I know, I know most people will not think that this is appropriate viewing for an 8 year old.  But...he gets it.

So anyway this is the conversation we are having while watching this long ass movie that I hate.  Well pieces of it because I don't have the strength to write it all.  And also because I've slept through some (most) of it.

The Kid on Online Fuckery
Him: Mama do you know what an avatar is?
Me: Yep, it's something that people use online to identify themselves.
Him: Uh huh. Most people use pictures that don't look like them because they don't want you to know who they really are.

The Kid is on to your Instagram shenanigans folks! Get it together!
********************************************************
The Kid on Shiesty Settlers
Him: Why do they call the planet Pandora?
Me: Well, probably after the myth of Pandora's Box where all of the evils of the where where stored in
the box until some dummy let them out.
Him: Hmmm...No, Mama that's a theory.  People just make up stories to explain things that happen in life like evil, sickness, and bad things like that.
Me: Oh. *but ain't that what I just said though...*
Him: But that theory makes sense.  Those people don't have anything bad happen until the aliens from Earth come and mess everything up and try to steal their natural resources.

Tea Party he's talking to you....
*********************************************************
The Kid on Evil Army Generals
Me: Man that dude has some serious issues.
Him: I know right? He really needs to relax.
Me: Relax? How?
Him: Oh I don't know.  Read a book or watch a movie or take a nap or something.
Me: You think that would help?
Him: Probably not.  He probably needs a wife.  I know that's what you would say, right Mama?
Me: *side eye*

The Kid talks like he knows me or something.
**********************************************************
The Kid on Alien Animals
Him: That cat thing is vicious!!
Me: I know! It's pretty scary.
Him: Yes! It's really territorial. Kind of reminds me of you.
Me: Word?
Him: Yea Mama.
Me: Care to explain?
Him: *blank stare* Is that really necessary? *smirk*

It's officially official. I've raised the snarkiest kid on the planet. If you see any free adoption ads on Craigslist pretend like you don't know me.
************************************************************

Okay, maybe you aren't as impressed as I am.  I get it.  He's not the fruit of your loins.  But I was pretty surprised at how well he grasped some of the themes in the movie that went over some adults (my) head.

Well, that's all I have for today.  Let me sit up and pretend like I've been watching this craptastic nonsense.

Reality Bites: Johnson v. Lozada

Chad Ochocinco nee' Johnson is having the best week ever.

First this happened.

On day 38 of wedded bliss somebody found condoms in the other's car and all hell broke loose.  And Chad decided to use his cerebellum for more than thoughts of stillettos and skinny jeans and gave Eve a shot to the noggin. He was arrested and told by a judge that he couldn't go anywhere near his boo.

Then....this happened.

On day 39 of harmonious matrimony Chad began feeling the fallout of his playing head games. Homeboy got cut by the Miami Dolphins and was left with a part-time reality gig.  It has to suck to be given a pink slip while you are recovering from having to force that county jail peanut butter sandwich and stale Kool-Aid down for dinner.

Until this happened.

On day 40 of this loving union VH1 decided to chuck the deuces at the reality show of him and his betrothed showing the world their undying love for each other. Boop! *NeNe Leakes voice*

And today THIS happened!!

On day 41 Evelyn flipped a table, hurled some Dom P at her assistant and decided that she was over it already.  And by COB she had filed papers to give her ChaddyPoo his name and number back.

So now that you are all caught up on the marital shenanigans of the Ochocinco's, let me ask you this.... Are you really surprised?

Like folks are all up in arms about this one like this wasn't a damn train wreck waiting to happen from the get go!  I mean he's a an attention whore with a women's shoe fetish who's privy to pastel skinny jeans and she's an angry sack chaser with a penchant for tossing dranks issues.

Nothing good can come from that.

41 damn days.

Some people are saying this whole mess is just karma coming back on her for all of her bad ass, loud talking, drink throwing, I-slept-with-your-husband-cuz-you-a-nonmothafuckin' factor BBW behavior.

I guess it's possible.  I mean every time I put bad shit out in the universe, I end up taking a blow to the head.

There's nothing like a TBI to get your mind right.

Others are saying that Evelyn shouldn't have been upset when she found the receipt for condoms. That she knew that Chad was about that philandering life before they said "I do" so she just should have carried it.

I guess that's possible too.  I mean, every time I learned about a boyfriend cheating on me I figured it was something that I did to make me deserve him being an aintshit piece of shit that can't keep his willy in his trousers.

There's nothing like being betrayed by the man that you love to make you gain some perspective on the world.

There are even some that say that Evelyn likely forced Chad into the situation by being verbally abusive.

Look, we all know that Evelyn has a slick mouth on her.  At times her tone alone is enough to make folks want to reach through the flat screen and shake the shit outta her.  And most likely she said some shit that took Chad to another level angry.

That doesn't make what Chad did acceptable on any level though.

Now he's been told by a judge that he can't go near his wife.  He's been told by his job to not show up.  He's been told by his side-hustle thanks but no damn thanks.

I'm sure his girlfriend BFF Terrell Owens is offering all kinds of support and love in his time of need.

Sucks to be him.  Gotta suck to be Evelyn too.

She's got no job. She's got no husband. She's got no television show. AND she's got no BFF because her homie tried to tell her to leave Chad's cheating ass alone.

Look, like I said. I don't condone domestic abuse of any kind. There are so many things that Evelyn and Chad could have done to handle their situation. Like....not get married.

As of Saturday I've been married for 4021 days.  All of those days haven't been easy.  It's quite likely that I've thought of murder and/or other felonious actions on at least 2000 of them.  But I never acted on it.  Well maybe twice, but there was no significant blood shed. So it doesn't count.

Marriage is HARD WORK. I don't think people really realize that.  They see all of the pomp and circumstance of the wedding and never take the time to consider what they are going to do the day after the wedding and the days after that.

Love is not enough.

Y'all better consider compatibility, trust, finances, work ethic, credit score, criminal record, how his/her family looks, and his/her entire genetic make up before you say I do.  It's not a game out here.

I really hope this is the beginning of the end of people allowing the world into their relationships and sharing all of their business on television and the innanets.  If not for all of the publicity I'm sure the 85 family could have figured out a way to work this out.

No relationship will be successful if EVERYBODY has an opportunity to see what's going on and comment.  Not one.

Oh and before I go, I have a small request.  While y'all all are out in these streets worrying about how Adam and Steve are trying to ruin the sanctity of marriage, please do Tee a favor and consider the damage that fools who only stay married for 41 days do to it too.

The Wonderful World of White Folks: Here Comes Honey Boo Boo

I got an email the other day in response to my Removing the Ratchet post. I really didn't think people that I don't know were reading this so I was kind of shocked when I saw it. LOL

Imagine my surprise when I found out that I had offended somebody! *snicker*

I won't be giving this person a name because the email upset me (not really, I'm just being an asshole). It was chock full of bad grammar and misspellings so I'm going to paraphrase what it said:

You always talk about how ratchet black people are and how they always do dumb stuff.  You don't ever say anything about white people.  You mentioned ratchet white people in your blog but you didn't show any pictures or anything like you always do for black people.

I do believe this clown was calling me racist. Or at least trying to make it seem like I don't have love for my people. I can't really be sure because at times it was hard to decipher what language was being used.  My Rosetta Stone was taken to the limit, ya hear me?

Anyway, the idea that I'm racist or don't like my own people is asinine.  I love black people.  I just don't like black people all the time.  And the same things goes for pretty much every other race, color and creed on this planet. You do dumb shit, I'll clown. Period.

I don't discriminate.  Everybody can get it.

Anyway, since I'm not white, it's kind of hard to vividly describe what white people ratchet looks like.  I only know it when I see it.

And wouldn't you know it...I saw a commercial on TLC the other day that set off all of my alarms! I couldn't find the commercial but I did find this:


*blank stare*

I'll be damned.

White folks, y'all are going to have to explain this one to me.  What do you feel when you see this? Does it make you want to take a nosedive off the edge of the Earth? Is there pride? Is there sadness?  Is there a odd urge to crawl into a hole and hope nobody remembers you exist?

I really want to know.

I mean know how I feel whenever I see Ices Brown.  I'm pretty sure you are feeling those same emotions.  But I just want to be sure.

Anyway, there you have it rude emailer who won't be named.  I hope you're satisfied.

For those of you keeping count Honey Boo Boo is sign #564805448054344 that the end is near.

Get your lives right.

Real Life Skills: The Anti-Judgement Initiative

If you haven't been living under a rock these past few days you know that the 2012 Olympics have been underway in London, England.

USA Men's Olympic Swim Team.

I've had a grand time watching Team USA break records, make history, and win medals.  Full disclosure: I also spent a far amount of your tax dollars swooning over the men's swim team.

My only complaint is that to get to the good stuff like swimming, gymnastics, women's beach volleyball, or synchronized diving; you have to sit through crap like table tennis or men's volleyball (beach or indoor).

These sports don't give me what I need.  So while attempting to watch these wacktackular events my mind began to wander.

As you know, the wandering mind and random thoughts really isn't out of the ordinary for me. Seeing all of the countries together competing and appearing to live harmoniously in the Olympic Village made me think of some things that I thing would make this world a much better place.

Mainly I was thinking about community service (not court ordered).  Ways to make people act like they have good sense.  Like, what kind of guidance could Tee give to make sure the good citizens of the world didn't embarrass themselves and end up viral on theses innanets?  But then I figured that that is a hopeless cause because some people are just good at being judged.  This is learned behavior for some, congenital for others. There is really no way to "cure" it.

But I can do my part to make sure that even if you have it in you, you can practice ways to keep it out of sight.  Kind of like birth control. Except instead of practicing safe sex, this is about practicing using your good damn common sense.

So, I decided that I would give some guidance on how to live a awesome and peaceful judgement free existence in Tee's World.

These aren't laws or anything, I'm no dictator.  These are just rules that you should abide by in life (or at least while in my presence) to prevent ridicule and self-esteem expulsion.

1. A man that is taller than 4'7" should never drive a Mini Cooper, Smart Car, or any other mode of transportation that looks like it should be an Bratz doll accessory.  I'm pretty sure you think you're cool or saving the Earth, but honey you just look silly folding yourself into those clown cars.  Buy a car that's made for humans you d-bag. 
2. No woman should have more facial hair than any 6 year old boy that you know.  I know you're thinking "but Tee, 6 year old boys don't have facial hair."  EXACTLY.
3. No human should walk these streets with feet that look like they have been in existence since the beginning of time. Jesus didn't invent paraffin dips and honey pedicures so y'all could be walking around with Hobbit feet!!  Dammit do us all a favor and at least buy a pumice stone and a bucket.  Let those thangs soak and scrub away the destitution and darkness that is covering your soles.  It's 2012.  There's absolutely no fucking excuse for you to be walking looking like you personally mapped out the Underground Railroad with your metatarsals.
4. Brush, floss, gargle. Rinse, repeat. Get yourself some dental  insurance and make sure you take full advantage of everything those DMDs have to offer. I know this seems really random, but y'all are going to have to trust me on this one.  I've seen some shit in my lifetime that would make Baby Jesus take a header out of the manger. You don't want to be walking these streets looking like Jack Skellington. A copay is nothing compared to the warm feeling you will get when you smile and see every tooth the Good Lord gave you. 
5. Wear clothes that fit. There's nothing worse than seeing a woman in an awesome outfit that is 10 sizes too small.  I'm sure you think you're sexy but the whole world is standing in judgement against you dear.  Ain't nothing hot about walking these streets looking like a busted Summer sausage casing.  And fellas can we please stop it with the oversized jeans and tees AND the undersized jeans and tees? If you can't walk because your pants are so big you have to keep pulling them up or so small that you balls chafe you need to make some changes in your life! Nothing makes me want to commit vehicular manslaughter more then a young man in a cross walk who's delaying my trip because his damn pants don't fit. In Tee's World tapping a pedestrian like this with the grill of your SUV will only be a misdemeanor.  You won't even have to come to court for that shit. 
6. Keep personal conversations personal.  Now THIS is a novel idea. I know way more about people than I could ever want to based off of the things that they say out loud while chatting on the phone. If I didn't use my powers for good I could have stolen at least 27 identities, pilfered 8 homes while the owners were on vacation, slept with 12 aintshit husbands, took 7 aintshit wives out for drinks and bj's, and enjoyed some illegal pick-me-ups with 32 good for nothing teenagers.  You people need to learn how to whisper and or get the hell up from your desks.  Cubicles are made from carpet and wire.  They have no ceiling. They are NOT soundproof.  Jeez.
7. Stop talking strangers about hair. Look me in the eyes when I tell you this. I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR HAIR CHOICES.  NOT ONE. That's pretty much it. Anybody that randomly comes up to me and starts talking about why they started relaxing again, why they stopped relaxing, giving unsolicited hair tips, or touching my afro for texture checks get sideeyes, rolled eyes, blank stares, and maybe even a long frustrated exhale.  What you do with your mane is your business ma'am.  What I do with mine, is mine. I never had a fuck to give about your head and what you do with it.  Just because we both can't use a fine toothed comb does not make us sisters in the struggle. Get your life.

I'm going to stop now because this list would get extra lengthy.  

Anyway, that should be enough to get you good folks started.  Keep doing any of them and the citizens of the world will keep treating you like....well like they've been treating you. 

Y'all have a good day.  I'm about to go stare at Ryan Lochte's webpage, so I know I will.  ;-)

SWWWWWOOOOOOOONNNNNN!!!!

Real Life Skills: Removing the Ratchet

So a friend asked me to give a few thoughts on how to remove the ratchet from your life.  At first I didn't know how to approach this subject. But then I realized that getting rid of stuff just isn't that easy for folks. 


That's why they have t.v. shows like Hoarders and Cheaters. People get attached and just keep useless shit around. Even when the useless shit is harmful to you health and your freedom.


In this case, the ratchet is harmful to mental sensibilities and common sense.  These people will have you questioning your sanity and sometimes considering to join in on the reindeer games.


None of that is acceptable.

So here are some easy steps to successfully eliminate the raggedy ass ratchet folk from your life and make sure that you remain an honest, decent citizen of the universe. 

How to DeRatchetize Your Life, by Tee

1. Eliminate all social networking. Surveys show that Facebook and Twitter supply 87.23% of all ratchetness witnessed by by all individuals capable of logging on to the Internet.  And just in case you're some kind of math genius and want to know what happened to the other 12.77% check out Instagram and Tumblr. You'll find all remaining fuckery there.  Simply deactivate your accounts on these sites and you've pretty much successfully eliminated all manners of fuckery from your life.  No more status rants about deadbeat baby daddy's on Mother's Day, no more ass pics taken in a toothpaste spotted bathroom mirror, no more videos from Ices Brown, no more e-beefs with strangers via @'s and inboxes.  Just think about it.  While you do that I'll sit over here and hum some Louie Armstrong...

2. Get emancipated. Every single one of us has a sibling or an uncle or a cousin that you wish you could vote off the island or at least erase the DNA that ties them to you.  This person seems to thrive on all things dramatic and has a life changing crisis every 3rd day.  It seems like you spend half your life bailing them out, loaning them money, and pretending like you give an ounce of a damn about what's going on in their life.  I know you're tired of dealing with that, so this is what you need to do (in no particular order): change your phone number, move out of state, join witness protection, get a new face.  I know all of that seems drastic, but remember this is family, you can't just ignore them like you do regular people.  You can't just say goodbye.  Family never takes that kind of simple shit seriously.  You have to go out with a bang so they know it's real.

3. Start hanging with white people.  Now this one is going to be controversial, but stick with me.  We all know that white folks have their very own patented brand of ridiculousness.  But white folks ratchet and black folks ratchet are two distinctly different things.  One embarrasses you.  The other makes you proud and happy that it's not anybody related to you engaging in the dumb shit.  Why not hang with people who will boost your self confidence and love for self instead of people that make you wanna tuck your head and tip out of the room or jump off a cliff?  *NOTE* If you're white and reading this, start hanging with Mexicans.  Same rules apply.

4. Stop being you. Nine times out of 10 the common denominator to all things ratchet in your life is YOU.  So you are going to have to make some changes.  Like get a close and personal relationship with dictionary and thesaurus. Not everybody understands the gullah gullah island type wack text slang that you speak and write. Let's learn how to spell, enunciate, and form complete sentences. You might want to cover up that tattooed tear with some concealer.  Most employers aren't into hiring folks that advertise that they shanked somebody in lockup. Or how about you stop telling all your business to anyone who will read it and/or listen!! The most ratchet of the ratchet are folks that are always in their bipolar ass flip floppy feelings and feel like they need to subject the masses to that bullshit! All of that to say: take a break from being you for a while.  Pretend to be anybody else.  I guarantee the ratchet quotient in your life with drop to negative numbers.

Well, that's all I have.  Four simple steps to ratchet removal. I hope they help.

I'm pretty sure there are other things you could do, but I'm thinking that if you successfully implement these 4 you won't have to much trouble with life.

And just so you know, ratchet ass tomfoolery is not allowed in Tee's World.  Over here we watch the shenanigans from afar, judge it, laugh at it, and then go home to reflect on ways to keep all of the ratchet people away.

Some would say it's a form of segregation.  They would be right.  The civil rights of the asinine, embarrassing, and stupid don't really matter to the inhabitants of Tee's World.  Think about that when you apply for citizenship. 

SISNS: High Fashion Failure

This past week has been pretty damn awesome for me.

I turned 34.  I stood with one of my besties as she married the love of her life. Tom Phan gave me the pedicure of life.  And the men of Chicago found out that I'm beautiful (I actually plan on traveling the Earth and sharing my beauty with the world, Chi-town was just the first stop on my Share-It-Tee [get it "charity"? don' judge my cleverness.] world tour, dates coming soon).

I'm still recovering from all of that.  I'm experiencing a delightful combination of jet lag, sleep deprivation, and bullshit overload.

Like I said. The weekend was UH-MAZE-ING.

I'm still on a high from it all.  I'm talking smiles, a couple jigs and some jazz hands.

In fact, I wasn't planning on being in a bad mood until at least next Thursday.

All that changed this morning when I logged onto Facebook.  I know, I know.  I set myself up by doing that alone.  My FB newsfeed is where struggle and hard times have a permanent residence.

Anyway, I log on expecting to see some regular run of the mill fuckery.  Well, my aintshit friends certainly didn't let me down.

Look at what I just saw*:

Ma'am? 

And Jesus wept.

I'm officially pissed the hell off.  

Rasputia done went and decided to play Fashion Star and created nothing but epic failure.

Sooooo.....we just making 2 piece sets outta wife beaters now?  Like were there no man made fabric short sets left on the clearance rack at Dot's for this broad?  Where there no skirts in her size on the Rainbow clearance racks?  

What exactly is this kind of ensemble called? Why not wear a tube top down there? Or just walk out in just your Spanx and call it a unitard? Not that either one of those would be better. 

Would wearing a regular ass skirt have been too much trouble?

I mean, I know Juneteenth and July 4th just passed, but you just gonna celebrate by granting your ass and saddle bags freedom through the fuckin armholes of an undershirt in public?

Hanes didn't create the awesome cottony comfort of this tee shirt so that it would be used like this!  I'm certain when they designed it, the thought that the racerback would be used to swath the crack of somebody's ass was never, ever, ever considered. 

No ma'am.

Who cracks open a fresh 3 pack with such dark and dismal thoughts as this? 

Times like these I wish I had the mental capacity to invent a human delete button.  I swuhfogawd I'd erase this heffa off the face of the Earth!

Shit like this is why we are experiencing this damn heatwave.  Y'all can call it global warming if ya want to, but it's just Satan preheating his ovens.  

You better get your lives right and start calling out folks who engage in this kind of chicanery.  You can sit there and pretend like this don't matter, but I'll be damned if I let broads like this drag me down with them.

Nah.  Right now The Good Lord is sitting back and taking notes on which citizens of the universe have no problem with these temps.  I'm gonna sit here with all my fans pointed at me, the AC on arctic, my feet in a bucket of ice, and eating Klondike bars so that there is no confusion when He's handing out backstage passes to the Throne Room.

*Full disclosure: This weekend I personally participated in all types of shenanigans, fuckery, and hoodrat shit. But since no felonies were committed or Commandments were broken (that I can remember) I still have room to judge.

Open Letter: Dear Drake

Drake,

Hold up, before I start I'm gonna need some music to set the mood.

Okay, where was I?

Look, I've been trying to avoid writing this letter for a long time.  I mean my disdain for you is pretty well known in Tee's World.  The fact that I think your insides are made of strawberry Pop Tart filling is no secret.  However, my opinion of you was based solely on your musical selections.  Not on who you are as a "man".

But all of that changed this morning.  Why?  Because I logged onto my computer and the first thing that pops up is that you took a wine bottle and mollywhopped the cowboy shit outta Chris Brown.

Imagine that.  You are in a club full of half nekkid broads with your boys but your frilly ass felt the need to bitch up and toss a bottle dude? So Breezy and his body guard end up leaking fluids and your pink pannie wearing ass ends up in the ladies room wringing your hands and hiding behind the toilet in the big stall.

All that over some island poon that ain't hardly considering the likes of your satin slipper wearing ass.

Only a man who wears extra smedium Spanx under his jeggings would think that this kind of behavior is acceptable.

There's no way a dude with fully functioning balls would ever go to these lengths over a woman his never had a real relationship with. No sir, only a man who has testes full of marshmallow fluff would do such a thing.

You let your slip show son.

This kind of behavior is NEVER acceptable.

Real men flip tables.  They engage in hand to hand fisticuffs and the occasional Greco-Roman wrestling move.  They sweep legs and throw vicious right hooks. They certainly don't send perfectly good bottles of liquor flying through the air all willy nilly.  Hell, I don't know of any woman in her right mind that would waste good drank.  Especially on the likes of Chris Brown.

I have some questions that I'm hoping you can answer.

Since you appear to have never gotten over it, I need you to tell me exactly what Rihanna's twat is lined with? I imagine that it's gilded with precious stones and metals.

When she opens her legs do pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars, green clovers pop out?  Do all of Heaven's angels hit their dougie?  I need to know.  She obviously has some righteous vagina.  I mean you out in these streets committing felonies and class C misdemeanors.  There are very few women on this Earth who can say they have felonious pussy.  The kind that makes even the weakest man (you) feel strong enough to do dumb shit.

What did you say as you were tossing that bottle?  I'm certain is was some soft and pink shit like "nah nah nah boo boo I tossed a bottle at you" or some other weak ass Canadian prose.

Did you let out a squeal when you saw all the blood?

You don't have to answer that.  I'm certain you did.

When you ended up in tornado position behind the toilet in the ladies room, did you cry? Or just whine like you did on "Marvin's Room"?

Will this fiasco end up on a song? And if that's the case how will you feel if CB attempts to body you on the remix like Common did?

Look homie, I don't know how you are going to live this one down.  I'm pretty certain that the good citizens of the universe won't let this one die.  I know I won't. You'll be hearing about this from me until the Good Lord waves the red flag on us all.

Peace.

Tee

Can You Hear Me Now?

I had the most interesting conversation with The Kid this morning.  It all began with him talking about getting his yearbook signed by his classmates, then it took a left turn that had me reeling (well not really, but I did cuss a little bit).

It went a little something like this:
Him: Mama, I think I'm gonna take my yearbook to get it signed by my friends.
Me: Sounds like a good idea to me.
Him: Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get some phone numbers.
Me: Really? From who?
Him: My friends.  Some of them are girls. *smile*
Me: Interesting.  But, you don't have a phone, so how are you going to call these friends that are girls? Him: Funny you should mention that.  I think it's time for me to get a cell phone.
Me: No shit?
Him: Yeah, all my friends have cell phones.
Me: Really?
Him: Airick has a Blackberry, Kimora has an Iphone, *goes on to name several other children with smart phones*
Me: Wow. Well, let's do this. You write them all letters this Summer and tell them to use their paltry imaginations and pretend that they are texts.
Him: Dang Mama. You just shattered my greatness. I mean I'm gonna be in the 3RD GRADE!! *sigh*

Me:


Soooo....coolness in the 2nd going on 3rd grade is a cell phone?

This dude seriously came out of his face asking for an iPhone.

How on Earth are there people walking these streets thinking it's okay for children who can barely wipe their own asses to have rollover minutes?

I mean, I know this is a technological generation and all but I'll be damned if I let a dude that doesn't have a close and person relationship with FICA rock with Siri on the regular.  No ma'am.

No way I'm going to add a kid who thinks that it's completely possible that his super powers will manifest any day now to my Friends and Family plan.  I'll mess around and have all kinds of calls to Goku, Spiderman, and Thor on my bill.  No bueno.

But I tell you what I will do....

I'll dig this Nokia out of the 1996 crate and he will deal.

I'll tie 2 Dixie cups to a string and let him and his friends figure it out.

I'll give him a box full of spare buttons and foil and tell him to pretend like his name is Phineas or Ferb.

I don't have time for this foolishness.  I need you parents to let your kids be kids for just a little while longer.  Hell, we already know they are the generation that's going to end it all. Why the hell are y'all rushing shit?

Ripped From The Headlines: Hi Ho! Hi Ho!

This has been a very trying week for me personally.  Lots of stuff going on in my life that pretty much made me want to throw in the towel and go live with some Shaolin monks in silence.  I even booked my flight.

But then The Kid gave me some advice that made everything make sense: "Haters gonna hate Mama."

Indeed.

And so, instead of heading to Staten Island to live amongst the mute and learn Kung Fu.  I continued to apply my awesomeness to all of my endeavors and wouldn't you know it? Things got better.

Things got so much better that by the middle of the week instead of everything making me want to cry, I was laughing at the most inappropriate things.  You know, as per my usual.

This morning a friend of mine, Lovely Lucian, posted an article about the Fokken twins.  A pair of 69 year old women of the night.

When I tell you that the sheer audacity of this article brought Tee to tears? I don't think you would be able to fathom the amount of dew that covered my face.

69 year old flatbackers? For serious? There are really people out in these streets in search of geriatric tail and gummy BJs?

I can't.

But I did anyway.  And you want to know what I found?  The Fokken's made a movie!!!!!


These old broads really filmed themselves for perpetuity talking bout how that money from the state ain't putting bread on the table!!  That spreading legs that have seen the beginning of time and all things since keeps them eating that good food like steaks and chops and shrimp?

And one of them is a dominatrix!! Say what? Exactly how does that work? She looks like you could blow her over with a feather, but she's got men willing to pay dubloons (or whatever the currency in Amesterdam is) for her to tell them to chill in a wet Depends for a few seconds longer as punishment?

This is killing me.

The article said one sister retired because she got arthritis and can't lift her legs like she used to.

Jesus be some Capsaicin.

Look folks, I know times are hard all over the world. I know a lot of your 401Ks are looking like Number Munchers had their monthly meeting all up and through your accounts.  But I need for you to do me one good favor.  Do NOT seek flatbacking as a way to supplement your retirement income.  I understand that some of you don't have any other talents, but you need to find a way.  Sell oranges on the side of the road.  Braid hair.  Shine shoes.

But don't ever let me hear about you giving up access to your ancient ovaries like that shit is what's hot in these streets.

Nobody wants to see old balls.  I need you old men to keep those harnessed in whatever old me use to hold them up.  I definitely don't want to hear about anybody paying to cuddle them.

In Tee's Universe, we don't play these kinds of games.  All freaky XXX activity should be not be bartered but freely given away in the comforts of your own home.  We don't care how old you are, we just don't want to see it in the streets!

*sigh*

I'm pretty sure this isn't a sign that the world is ending.  I'm certain that the Fokken's went to grade school with 5 or 6 of The Disciples, so they understand their aintshit ways.  Not saying they get a pass, just that when you have friends in high places sometimes you just get to wallow in your shenanigans a little longer than most.

So yeah, no 2012 on this one.  But it IS a sign to get your life right.  Stop spending all your coins on Farmville bucks and invest in yourself.

Mother's Day Joy

This post is dedicated to all of the women who have taken take out of their lives to love, nurture, and on occasions smack the piss out of a kid.  This kid may not have been born from your womb, but you loved him or her enough to make sure they didn't make an ass out of themselves and embarrass you and the rest of the people who share your genetics or zip code.

I salute you ladies.

Today's post is my gift to you.

The following are GIFs from around these innanets that I think will help you express your thoughts and feelings on all of the shenanigans and tomfoolery that you may encounter. I know they damn sure help me.  Enjoy!

For those moments when you promised the Good Lord you wouldn't act a damn fool, and somebody tries your patience:

or maybe:

For that moment when your child brings home a mudduck or other such visual travesty:

For that moment when your entire ration of fucks to give hits 0:

 For those moments when you've said all you can say and the next stop will be side kicks and right hooks:

For those moments when people bring their personal bullshit into your personal space:

For those moments when you realize that your child(ren) really does have some of their father's family traits:

For those moments when there are no fucking words...:

  or how about

 or possibly:

 or maybe:

 or my personal fave:

Anyway, I hope this little shots of heaven filled your day up with as much joy as they did mine.  :-)

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!! 

SISNS: No. Just...NO!!!

Jesus be a soft landing....

I thought I'd start of this edition of "Shit I Should Never See" with a gif that pretty much shows everything that happened to me the moment I laid eyes on the picture that is the subject of today's post.  It's one of those things that you feel like if you blink slow enough, it will be gone once you open your eyes.

I'm sure you'll understand once you get a chance to check the shit out for yourself.

Eenie, meenie, miney, NO!! 

This morning I woke up to see the red message light flashing on my cell.  I fell asleep in the middle of an extremely hilarious text conversation with the BFF, so I just knew I was going to wake up to some unprecedented foolishness.

Never could I have ever imagined this epic level of tomfoolery.  Not ever.

I'll tell you right now, this is not the kinda shit you need for a 6 am damn wake up call!

I mean, really? This heffa was comfy enough with her position in the universe to put on (what I assume to be) a onsie! 

Although, due to the placement of the FUPA, I can't really be sure. 

*sigh*

I really can't.  I just can't. 

There's so much  wrong with this!  I'm all for self-esteem and what not, but this is where I draw the line.  You should never love yourself so much that you are willing to subject the rest of the world to looking at you whilst you walking around looking a hot, flaming, surface of of the Sun flaming mess!!

This is not okay!!

Anyone who finds this acceptable has to have a soul filled with darkness, deception, and the woes of the downtrodden. .

How is it okay for her to be walking these streets looking like Rasputia went and got lost in an alternate PBS dimension?

Can the Teletubbies sue her for defamation?

If you move the antennae on her head, will her eyes straighten up?

I guess the really important question would be: WHERE IN THE HELL ARE HER FRIENDS??? 

I can pretty much guarantee that my friends wouldn't allow me to leave my closet looking like this, let alone be seen in pictures or on the streets.  No ma'am.  I'm pretty sure they like me enough to tell me I look the fool.  In fact, I'm almost certain a fight of some sort would break out before I could make out of the front door.  A good girlfriend will knock you clean out in the comfort of your own abode before she lets you embarrass yourself and all of your ancestors by looking like Tinky Winky and 'em's long lost cousin.

That's what friends are for.

Nothing in my day has gone right since I laid eyes on the heffa.  So, I'm respectfully requesting a mulligan.

No way a good law-abiding citizen of the universe like Tee should have to suffer through a bad day because of someone else's piss poor decisions.

For those of you keeping count, this is sign #98739429404 that the Good Lord is pull Earth's rotation back faster than Kid Capri does a record on his turntables.  

Get your life right.  The clock End of Days bomb keeps on ticking...and The Big Guy just trimmed a few feet off of the fuse. 

Love and the White House

I don't know if I've ever said this over here in Tee's World, but I have a little thing for the POTUS.

It's really pathetic actually.  Why? Because I hate politicians as a rule.  They are thieves and liars.  They are narcissistic egomaniacs.  And most of them are pretty dumb.

But the POTUS has stolen my heart.  I'm talking a real live when he smiles I get butterflies and giggles type of crush. I don't know how it happened.  Other than being over 6' tall, he's not even my type.  But, I swear I just know he's gonna be my main squeeze.  Or at least I hope to get a few clandestine squeezes in at some point before I take over the world.  After my takeover I won't have time.  Not even for that smile.....

Anyway, I happen to think the POTUS is one of the coolest men on the planet.  I bet his body temperature never gets above 72 degrees.  

We happen to agree on a lot of things.  He thinks Kanye West is an arrogant asshole.  I do too.  He thinks John Boehner is a crybaby asshole.  I do too.  He thinks Rush Limbaugh is an obese asshole.  Dammit, I do too!!!  

Since we agree on pretty much everything, I'm sure we would never argue.  We would hold hands, look into each others eyes,  and share tips on world takeovers.  That's the kinda shit real relationships are built on.  

And when he does stuff like he did at this years White House Correspondents Dinner?  Man, it just makes me love him more.

(www.worldstarhiphop.com)

He's the bomb.

I'm currently working on my submission package for the White House Intern Program.  Judge if you want.  While you are sitting there surfing the innanets for whatever it is that you look for....

I'll be checking for dust mites under the Resolute desk* and being the change that I believe in. ;-)



*Just jokes people.  I would never do that.  For several reasons: 1.  I've got arthritis.  2. FLOTUS is from Chicago's Southside.  I'm pretty sure she still carries a razor blade under her tongue for kicks. 3.  You've heard of Monica Lewinsky, but have you heard from her lately?  No ma'am, not even Presidential balls will keep me from Operation World Domination.

Random Thoughts: Lazy Day Edition

Before I start today's post, I just want to thank everyone who read and shared my last post.  Apparently, lots of folks thought it was funny and increased traffic around these parts A LOT.  I appreciate you all.  Anything you can do to raise my number of minions...I mean fans, means the world to me. :-)

Okay, on to today's post......

Today is an extra lazy day.  Besides getting up to head to a local diner to stuff my face with fatty and cholesterol laden deliciousness, I've done nothing but read, lay in bed and watch wacktackular movies.  The wacker the better. Movies like Burlesque, Honey, Glitter. I even considered a Tyler Perry church play.  So you KNOW I'm in a damn good mood.

Most people don't understand what I find entertaining about bad movies.  But my mind is kind of fucked.  I'm pretty much into everything that is inappropriate and I tend to laugh at the most unfunny things.  I happen to find humor in the fact that the people acting in these movies are really and truly being serious and giving it all that they have. I'm talking what I'm quite positive that they believe are Oscar worthy performances.  And they still suck. A LOT.  It's truly amazing to me. I can't get enough.  I can't stop watching them.  It's my strange addiction.

Anyway, I've been up since like 3 am.  It's days like these, when there is nothing really going on, and I have plenty of time to myself that I think of the most random things.  I mean, if you've been hanging around in Tee's World long enough you should know that my mind is pretty damn random on most days anyway, but if you give this gray matter time to roam on it's own there's really no telling what you're going to get.

I really didn't have a topic to write on and I promised myself that I would try to write at least once a week.

So here are some of my thoughts for April 28, 2012:

Never not funny. 

<-----This is my favorite shirt.  I should wear it more.  It's a great conversation starter.  Which 1sucks for me because I don't really like having conversations.

I'm 87.65% sure that Mitt Romney is the Manchurian Candidate.

Olivia Pope kinda makes me want to date women.  But not all women.  Just Olivia Pope. We'd share war stories and handbags and shoes.

Spot on casting!!

GCB is funny as all fucks. Those white broads are bat shit crazy. I love it.

Angelina Jolie really does look like Malificent!! OMG

My son will be taller than me soon.

Whatever happened to Tony Terry?  Is he singing "With You"? I wonder how much he charges for appearances? Was he a natural red head?

I should design some t-shirts.

I think I want a food truck. I have no idea what I'd serve.  Maybe ice cream.  But that would make it an ice cream truck...

Some prime rib would be nice.

I miss my Mama.

It really is funny when The Kid falls out of the bed.

Love Jones might be the best black love story ever told.  "I love you. That's urgent like a mothafucka." Smooth game.  Well played Darius Lovehall.  Well fuckin' played.

On second thought, Love & Basketball is the best black love story. Love Jones has the best soundtrack.

I wish I had a queen friend to submit for RuPaul's Drag Race.

Misshapen really is a great word.  I should use it more.

I really regret not going to Vegas with the homies. I can't miss anymore trips.  I just can't.

Well, those are some of the more normal thoughts I've had today.  I'll keep the more radical ones to myself.  I am trying to take over the universe.  I don't want you all thinking I can't rule over ALL because you think I'm crazy as hell.

Everyone Is NOT A Winner

Me and a friend were having a conversation the other day.

This friend was explaining to me how you can no longer cut children from teams or school activities.  Now because my child is younger, I'm not well versed on all the ins and outs of school sports politics.  I only know about shit like wee ball, youth basketball, and kung fu (The Kid is a beast with the left chop-right kick combo y'all).

Anyway, we were talking about how some of these kids that aren't cut suck donkey balls at whatever sport they are playing.  But because of the rule you have to let them play.

In my opinion, and here in Tee's World we know it's the only one that matters, that's WACK!!! If you suck you shouldn't be on the team. Point blank period.  Be a towel boy, go fetch water, shit join the Team Trainer Corps, but get the entire fuck off the field!!!

I hate the idea that all kids get a ribbon.  The fact that there are no losers anymore is what's wrong with the world.

I call it the pussification[1] of our youth.

Pussification is one of the reasons bullying is so rampant these days.  Everybody wants to be nice and there are no consequences for the kids that are wack.  Look, I've been bullied it's not fun.  And I'm not saying that it's not a real problem. What I'm saying is the way that these problems are being addressed are not the correct way.  When I was being bullied I ran home crying.  You want to know what happened? Big Daddy locked me out of the fucking house and told me not to bring my crying ass home until somebodies ass was kicked. I've carried that lesson in my heart and soul since I was 7 years old.  The last person that tried to bully me ended up with an eye patch for the Summer.[2]


And you want to know what else? I've been cut from teams. And I cried about it and I felt bad. But you want to know what happened? Big Mama said, "Girl get it together. So what you ain't make it on THAT team. You're good enough to make another." And I believed her.  I found something that I was good at and I did make another team. And we were ALL-STARS.

But these days, instead of playing outside, working hard at your craft, practicing hand to hand combat, and learning how not to be an all around loser, we've got a generation of vitamin D deficient simps who don't know battle outside of a fucking Worlds of Warcraft level.

Truthfully, it's really not the kids faults.  I blame the parents.  I'm quite sure the reason why everybody gets a ribbon on my sons b-ball team is because little LuQuane's daddy was extra wacktackular with his crossover and got cut from every team in every league in his hometown.  So now we have to suffer through watching LuQuane fumble, fall, and score goals for the other team because his daddy just wasn't good enough.

Fuck that.

I say bring back team cuts.  Bring back the sucky feeling you get when you get 2nd. Bring back the big shiny trophies and medals for first and the bargain bin homemade ribbons for everybody else. Bring back touchdown celebration dances and the art of talking shit to your opponent.  Bring back intimidation and the ability to make your opponent feel like they belong on the bottom of your shoe.

It's what the world needs.

Pussification is the reason why some many of today's youth are making piss poor decisions. No way a kid who knows the feeling of real life consequences would walk out of the house like this:

Seriously ma'am?

Only people who have walked pussified streets would feel safe walking around like this with no fear of retribution.

This ain't right!!

Pussification is the reason why Drake sells out stadiums.

Pussification is the reason why a man wearing skin tight chartreuse skinny jeans is acceptable.

Pussification is the reason why McDonald's started selling microscopic fries with their Happy Meals.

Pussification is the reason why folks like Rush Limbaugh can pop off without feeling the loving force of 5 knuckles to his jaw immediately afterward.

*sigh* Y'all gonna get enough of letting shit like this slide.  I fully expect someone like this to end up being the POTUS and there won't be anything any of us can do about it.  Hopefully, the Good Lord will see fit to press pause on Earth's rotation before then.

---

[1]Pussification: v. the act of turning something into a pussy. Also see bitch made, punk, aintshit.
[2]True story.
.

When All Else Fails...Sell Some Tail

I have a friend named The Good Reverend Doctor, I'll call him TGRD because typing all of that out more than once would be more keystrokes than I care to deal with.  Now, TGRD is an educated young man.  He's got all kinds of degrees and most people would think that he's a fairly intelligent dude.

Well, here's the thing about TGRD.  With all of the theology,  grammar, mathematics, and other stuff that he knows that would make people think that he actually uses the brain in his head, he's got no damn sense at all! Zilch. This guy...this guy is the one who supplies me with most of my foolishness fixes.  Not because he knows that it makes me happy.  He does it because he's one of the only other fools in this universe that get the same kind of pleasure out of pure, unadulterated fuckery that I do.

So with all of that said, I guess I should tell you that today's post is dedicated to TGRD.  But because the conversation that we had led me to look on these innanets for some foolishness to discuss and I came across a story that touched my soul.  It's a real life tale of hunger and the will to survive.  Kind of like The Hunger Games but with prostitutes, undercover fuzz, and drive-thru windows instead of Katniss, Peeta, and 'em.

So, please thank TGRD - missionary, teacher, fuckery fanatic for sending me off into the wild blue yonder to look for this shit.  It's pretty much all his fault.

Take some time out of your glorious day to click the link from The Miami Herald. I'll be waiting to discuss when you get back:

The Skeezburglar

http://www.miamiherald.com/2012/04/03/2728952/woman-offers-sex-for-dollar-menu.html

What the entire fuck is really going on with people these days?

What exactly would you call this kind of crime? Mackin' for McDoubles?  French Fried Flatbackin?

Look, I've felt the horrible twinge of an empty belly a few times in my life.  But never, have I ever thought I'd head over to the local drive-thru to hand out BJs for burgers and fries!!  I think far to highly of mysef.   There's so many things that I could do before I even considered offering up The Precious for bargain bin prices.  I mean, where there no Red Lobsters or Olive Gardens close by? If you are gonna give up some tail at least have the courtesy of covering it with a nice cloth napkin before the deed is done.

Jesus be some table manners.

It takes some real, live balls to stand in front of a statue of the great Ronald McDonald and offer up nook for $2.75! I mean, ma'am is your vajayjay not even worth the high ticket items like McRib or Big Mac? Not even one of those sweet and refreshing strawberry and banana smoothies or a hot beverage from the McCafe?

What would Grimace do?

I'm so outdone by this foolishness.

Just in case you were wondering, that cool breeze you just felt was our time on Earth speeding right past us.  This is reason #43459445632358.187 that the world is coming to an end.  The Good Lord didn't jack Adam's rib for us to be making these kinds of piss poor decisions ladies. Damn.

You Only Live Once...

Greetings!!!

I know it's been a month of Sunday's since I've been around these parts.  I apologize.  I've had a very mean case of writer's block.  Seems like I've been getting it a lot these days.  I mean it's not like there wasn't anything for me to write about.

Rick Santorum called the POTUS a n-word...almost.

Luigi opened his big mouth and said that Trayvon Martin was murdered because of his hoodie...and then gave the worst apology ever.

Two old dudes got it poppin' in a dialysis clinic over a basketball game.

All of that going on and I couldn't put the keystrokes together to write about.  But, you wanna know what did bring my thoughts and opinions out of hibernation?

YOLO. For you geezers and uninformed, that means "You Only Live Once". Now, I'm sure you all have heard this phrase over your lifetime. You probably even used it yourself.  As in, "I really don't want to go out on a date with this guy, but you only live once! Something good might come out of it. *smile*" It's even possible that you said, "I really don't want to go to school across the country.  I don't know anybody out there.  But you only live once! This is a great opportunity! *smile*" Or maybe you said, "I'm scared shitless of heights, but dammit I'm gonna skydive today. You only live once! *smile*" Or maybe you even said, "I'm going to get this tattoo of Rick Flair on my ass. He's the GREATEST! You only live once! *smile*

Most people would say that YOLO is something that you attach to positive things....mostly. It's a decision you make that you wouldn't normally make because you are a safe and cautious law-abiding citizen of this universe.

YOLO is stepping outside of your comfort zone to make some shit happen...mostly.

But this notion has been bastardized. In fact, whatever you once thought that it meant is pretty much in fuckin shambles.

I would like to blame it on Weezy and Drake's frilly asses. I mean, they did write a song that has Generation Z acting a complete damn fool. But I can't.  It's not a bad song.  In fact, I like it.  Drake and Weezy didn't say anything about making an ass of yourself anywhere in that little ditty.  I'm almost positive they didn't want their shit to be the theme song for piss poor decision making.

At this point I usually post pics of the dumb shit. But I don't want this blog here to catch scabies or any other communicable disease from them.  So just Google "YOLO" and hit images and see what you come up with.

On my search I found:

• A young lady engaged in sexual intercourse while eating what appeared to be a plate of hash.
• A creep walking through a crowded club with his peen on display.
• A really skinny dude doing his business on top of what appeared to be the 600 lb. virgin on a public restroom floor.

*Please excuse me while I go fumigate my laptop and take a decontamination shower*

Anyway, I'm not sure how people can take a positive idea like this and just shit all over it in the name of making an excuse for them to be aintshit in public.

It's beyond ridiculous.  

If I know you, PLEASE don't send me anything with the subject line: YOLO if you have anything to do with it.  I'm telling you now, I will judge you.  And then I will talk about you worse than the Mother Board talks about hoes who come to church on Easter wearing short skirts and red lipstick. 

Try me if you want to. 

Also, I've decided to blame this shit on Oprah.  If her ass didn't want to make the world so sunshiney and full of rainbows, we wouldn't have the masses rebelling against it and ending face down ass up on your FB timeline. 

YOLO is sign #456938040682-15c that the world is ending.  No way Baby Jesus is gonna let us keep breathing his sweet air if you all keep this shit up.