Beyond Scared Straight - The Taco Meat Appreciation Episode

So I was minding my own business laughing at lunatics on Facebook when I got a message from my homegirl, The Lovely Lucian.

When I tell you I screamed and hollered?

Ooh Lawd, y'all just gotta watch this shit.


First of all, let us concentrate on how delicately the young white man combed that chest hair please?

Little brother combed that shit like he had nothing but love and respect and tender gratitude for each and every fucking follicle.

*moment of silence for his manhood*

And what about "Hustle Man"? I haven't had so much love for inappropriate damn behavior since Fleece Johnson stole my heart a few years back. 

And let us not forget to mention the deference KJ showed for Mr. Taco Meat when he politely declined his Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday natural hair care shift?

Listen, I know it's been a while since I've been around here, but nothing has moved me as much as this has moved me in a very, very long time.

This is some high class fuckery right here people. Y'all need to savor it. I know I am.

Also, if you're still keeping count. This right here is going to be one of the reasons that the Good Lord slams both feet down on the brakes. Civilization doesn't stand a damn chance.

Ripped from the Headlines: Man Slaps Baby On Plane, After Calling The Kid A Nigger

So the yesterday my homie Money Mike the King of All Goons, sent me this article:
FEBRUARY 15--After demanding that the mother of a crying toddler “shut that nigger baby up,” a male passenger allegedly slapped the 19-month-old across the face as a flight prepared to land in Atlanta last Friday evening, The Smoking Gun has learned.

The shocking February 8 incident aboard Delta Airlines Flight 721 resulted in Joe Rickey Hundley, 60, being charged with simple assault, according to a U.S. District Court affidavit. Hundley, seen at right, is president of an aircraft parts manufacturer headquartered in Hayden, Idaho.

In an interview, Hundley denied striking the toddler or using a racial slur, though he did acknowledge that he “asked the mother to quiet the child.” Hundley, who said he was traveling to Atlanta to visit a hospitalized relative, described himself as “distraught” on the flight, during which he said he consumed a single alcoholic drink.

As detailed by FBI Agent Daron Cheney, Hundley was traveling to Atlanta from Minneapolis in seat 28A on the MD-90 twin-engine jet. He was seated next to Jessica Bennett, who shared seat 28B with her son Jonah.

Bennett, 33, told investigators that the “aircraft was in final descent” to Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport when her child “started to cry due to the altitude change.” Bennett added that she “was trying to get [her son] to stop crying, but he continued.”

At this point, Bennett recalled, Hundley used the racial epithet as he told her to shut the child up. He then allegedly “turned around and slapped” the toddler in the face “with an open hand, which caused the juvenile victim to scream even louder.” The slap, Bennett said, “caused a scratch below [the child’s] right eye.”

After Hundley hit the child, Agent Cheney reported, Bennett received assistance from several other passengers, including Todd Wooten, who was in seat 16C. Wooten told agents that he “heard derogatory language coming from the rear of the aircraft” and got up to investigate. “According to Mr. Wooten,” Cheney noted, “he saw Joe Rickey Hundley strike” the toddler.

Bennett told TSG that she believed Hundley was intoxicated when he boarded the plane, adding that he “reeked of alcohol” and was “stumbling around wasted.” Bennett, who was traveling to a family funeral, said that Hundley drank several double vodkas during the two-hour flight and complained to her that her adopted son, seen at left, was too big to be a “lap baby.” Bennett’s Facebook profile photo shows her holding Jonah when he was a baby.

Hundley was charged this week with simple assault, according to a criminal complaint filed in federal court in Atlanta. If convicted of the misdemeanor count, he faces a maximum of one year in prison.

According to Virginia state court records, Hundley was arrested in 2007 following a fight with his girlfriend. Initially charged with simple assault, carrying a concealed weapon, and public intoxication, Hundley subsequently pleaded guilty to the misdemeanor assault rap. Hundley told TSG that the weapon he allegedly brandished was a wine corkscrew.

(source)

I'm gonna be honest and tell you that I didn't finish the entire article. I blacked out after I read that this motherfucker put his hands on the baby. 

My first thought when I came to?

I wish I may, I wish I might, cut the first clown that tries me tonight. 

I knew in .000035268 seconds what my reaction would have been in this situation. In no uncertain terms, I would have tried to rip that man's heart out through the back of his head.

Some of you may think that this is an overreaction. Judge me if you want. But there are 2 rules that I have that should never, ever, EVER be broken: 1. Don't touch me. 2. Don't touch my child. 

I am a strong believer in personal space. Gimme my 50 feet please and thank you. All violators of #1 will be issued a summons. And by summons I mean cussed all the way out. When it comes to touching my kid though? A summons is no where near punishment enough. 

The punishment for violating rule #2 is corporal. 

I swear to GAWD! I would have jumped on his back like a spider monkey and proceeded to wring all sources of life from his person.

I'm completely certain that the headline would have read: "Mother of Child Who Was Slapped By Geriatric Assclown Brings Whole Damn Plane Down in a Fit of Rage" or something like that. The skies would have been so damn unfriendly.

You wanna see some shit shut down? Put your hand on my kid without my explicit permission.

I'm going to be on you in such an epic Tasmanian Devil like manner that you won't even be able to defend yourself before your ass has been kicked 2 or 3 times. 

You want to hit my seed? No sir. Not acceptable at anytime.  You wanna slap kids and think that everything is all good? Nah, son. We don't play those kind of games.

That's grounds for major clap back. 

The great poet Tupac Shakur once said, "I'm not a killer, put don't push me." This is the kind of mess that would push me all the way over the edge. 

I give zero fucks about how your family is gonna feel at your funeral sir. Touch what's mine and there's gonna be some slow singin' and flower bringin'. Period.

This is another sign that the King Jesus is gassing up his chariot for the Rapture. Ain't no way he's gonna let the world keep spinning when foolishness like this is happening. Ain't no way.

When Keeping it Thug Goes Wrong...

The following video is running rampant on social media right now
(source)

By now you all should now my stance on bullying. I think it sucks. I also think that the best way to solve the bullying problem is to kick the bully's ass.  And I'm not talking about a few tap, I'm talking lefts, rights, uppercuts, and body blows. I say go straight Mike Tyson's Punch Out on that ass.

I'm not sure if that's the right thing to do, but that's surely what I teach my son. Apparently, the little lady in this video who is mollywhopping the cowboy shit outta her tormentor was taught the same.

This makes my heart smile. It's okay for you to judge me for that. I don't have a single, solitary damn to give about your feelings on the issue.

I'm hoping that somebody forwards this to Drake. Maybe the next time he gets into fisticuffs with another girl he'll know how to defend himself.

Also, can we talk about the bully's friends? The instigators? Why is it acceptable for them to tape the fight on their phones and provide ringside commentary? That's not friendship. Real friendship is stopping your friend from getting her ass kicked. Real friends sneak a punch when separating the fight...

Anyway, last night I was minding my own business and catching up on "Scandal." I had no plans on even talking about this video posted above until my friend, James the Great hipped me to this little ditty....

http://www.hulkshare.com/y7ns5bqj6134


First I cried...and then I died! Y'all play too much!!

OMG y'all have entirely too much damn time on your hands!

I don't have anything to say about this foolishness. Mainly because I feel like Jade's dumb ass needs to be made a fool of. Hopefully she (and her ain't shit friends) have learned a lesson.

Y'all gotta teach your kids to leave folks alone. If you don't, you'll have parents like me who don't give one single solitary fuck about throat checking a kid knocking on your door and calling them to the grass. Think about it.

Sing, Sing, Celebrate: Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Ratchet Artists Who Love Him

Today we celebrate the birth of one of the greatest civil rights leaders in our nations history, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 

 Many of us will honor his memory by participating in service projects. Others will relax and take advantage of the day off from work. 

Because MLK would say "way to go bro" on the National Mall...

And then there are the other citizens of the universe who will sit at their computers for hours scouring the innanets for pictures and then work diligently trying to tie together, Dr. King, President Obama, Nelson Mandela, Malcolm X, James Brown, Trayvon Martin, and their cousin Day Day. All in the name of the dream.

There will be galas, brunches, parades, and all other manners of celebrations in his honor. Including this soiree put on by the Pensacola Power Circle:

Excuse me for a moment while I close my eyes and wish that this shit ain't here when I open them again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Damn. Didn't work. Welp, this one gets the blankest of stares and the most epic side-eye a girl can muster.

This is the part of black culture that I hate. My people can always find a way to take something that is respectful and honorable and create the most ratchet shit ever.

Really? We just gonna take a picture of The King and throw some Beats by Dre's on him? What exactly is this for? Are we tryna give the man street cred? 

I wish my mind was feeble, so that I could understand what is really going on. Okay, I'm lying. I'm pretty proud that my mind doesn't work this way. I think it's utterly disrespectful to put some Beats by Dre's on The King. Everybody knows he enjoyed the smooth sound of Thelonious Monk being played on his trusty victrola. 

I just know when folks walk in there will be nothing but the distinctive aroma of weed, sweat, and failure. 

I thought that nothing could get worse than turning the King into a 106 & Park VJ...then I saw this...

MLK bad looking like a bag o'money...

I should have known nothing good would come of it when I saw that the B.O.S.S.N.I.G.G.A.Z. were the one's putting on the function. I mean, I guess it makes sense though seeing as how it's all for Bad Bitch Sunday...

Although, I'm certain that the good Doctor relaxed with a nice glass of Henny every now and again, I'm pretty sure that he would never chill in front of somebody's Nikon flexing with the church offering and one of the members of the Mother Board in her draws. 

Why is this okay? Who approved this shit? I'm just know that there is one of these floating around with the man chilling in a wicker chair with 2 or 3 hoes on his lap or planking on a stack of money in front of a Biggie/Tupac airbrushed backdrop. Because that's what he was all about really. Money, hoes, and equality for all.

Pinky rings, Polo's, and processes...

I don't even have the words... so I'll just show you my reaction...

The people of the world with good common sense would like to request that all of you bootleg computer artists cease and desist. You are making us all look bad. And you are making the Good Lord   reconsider not rebooting the matrix. 

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?