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?