Friday, April 21, 2006

White Man's Burden

Typically, I don't have much sympathy for white men. I mean, you're white and you're a male... work it out. However, this goes out to the black men that are dating white girls simply on the strength that they are "easy to deal with."

Dude was half asleep when I sat next to him. A few minutes into the ride, his phone goes off. Though he's speaking within reasonable levels, the volume on the phone is quite loud, so I hear the young lady on the other end. Basically, America, they went out the night before, and she wanted to go out with him again last night. The story essentially unfolds as follows:

I don't know Becky [I can't remember the real name, but we'll use Becky for the purposes of the tale], we stayed out late last night, I had a long day today, let me go home, grab something to eat, get some rest, and I'll see how I feel then and we can make plans from there.

Well, I'm in the mood to make my plans now, so I need an answer NOW.

I'd rather not make a commitment now, because even though I don't feel good now, I may feel a little better later and want to go out.

I just think you're being nasty about the whole thing. If you don't want to see me, just say that. I could make other plans you know!

I mean, if you have other plans, I don't want to hold you up. I can call you later, after you get out of your yoga class? Though I may not want to go out again tonight, if you want to hang out, you're welcome to come over.

No! NO! If you don't want to be with me, just SAY that! Just have the balls to tell me! You don't have to be nasty about it. God! I just don't see why YOU'RE turning this into such a big deal!!!

This went on for about 15 minutes. Needless to say I was ready to slap him, take his phone, and tell her to shut the fuck up. How did dude's, "I need some rest," translate, "I don't want to be with your bitch ass"? I mean, I don't know the whole story, and maybe dude is running hoes and whatnot. But, SHIT! She got in dude's issue almost from the jump.

It looks like the new crop of white girls got something else to accompany the ass...

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

It's been a long time. . .I shouldn'ta left you. . .

Ok, so I've been busy guys. Working, visiting home again, and all that good stuff. Plus, I've been blogging a lot more on Yahoo 360. It's sort of like crack without the ashy lips and questionable sexual services (at least for ME). However, a funny thing happened on the way to 360 the other day. I got cyber thugged yall!! Like for real.

I ain't even DO nothin'. Ok, like, what had happened was, all I had did was said that Matthew Knowles looks like he wouldn't be out of place on the offender website (AND HE DOES!) and a brawd got her nose all out of joint. But you don't have to take my word for it:

Do you actually know him? If not all this is mere rumor and speculation. He went to school with my father and I got a chance to meet him and he is a great guy. I was reading some of your past blogs and you are a contradiction. On one hand you ask why dont people speak positively about themselves and on the other hand you spend quite a bit of time tearing people down. Here is my take. I dont know you but on casual observation from intensive reading of your blogs, you seem to be straight tripping. how are you going to clown females when you a bald headed, fat ass freak show. I took the time to view your pictures and the ones of you in your friends albums. The ones on your profile are OLD. You got about 20 pounds more and 20 ounces more hideousness on you since then. Must have been the stress from Katrina. And what was with the synthetic fiber 2 strand twists you had and the sagging breasts? You were Talking about bras in one of your blogs. How about get you one with some straps to hold yours up OK? And where is your hair sweetie? Had a recent problem with chemicals? They say a woman who loves talking about what other females should not wear really do that because they hate themselves and they are trying to appease their own insecurity. If I looked like you, I would hate myself too. Return to New Orleans darling. you and that wrecked city are a dead on match.

Say WORD? Beyonce? Is that you girl? Or is that Tina? Let me first say that a total stranger doing research on/about me is just a little icky. Katrina barbs. And, uh, did this brawd study my mammaries? Can you casually observe and intensely read at the same time? And does passing him a hot dog at the Essence Fest automatically mean that dude shouldn't give me the heebie jeebies? I knew that singers had groupies, as do sports stars, actors, musicians, but their creepy fathers? Daaaaaamn. What part of the game is that?

Needless to say, this has been my joke of the week. I have been called a lot of things in my life and time, but a fat, bald freak show. Wasn't that the dude on Harold and Kumar? I mean, I'm no cover girl, but WOW. I swear to you America, I did not have sexual relations with her man.

I don't want a resolution, I don't want an amen corner and I certainly don't want sympathy (even though when my homegirl called her a chuck wagon stew serving bitch, I damn near busted one of my fat freakish guts). This was really just too funny NOT to share. Folks will take up a cause and fight to the death for damn near ANYTHING.

But then again, that's what I get for fucking around on Yahoo.

And all this time I thought Mary J. banned hateration in the dancerie.

The Pod People

With all the trials and tribulations of parenting, especially in today's world, one would think that it is a very taxing chore. . .were it not so damned entertaining. So today, I will provide you with little snippets of conversations I've had with my children over the years. Please bear in mind that these people are not normal children. They are reincarnated senior citizens. Now granted, these are MY kids, so I will probably think that what they say is a whole lot funnier than the rest of you, but hell, it's MY BLOG!!! *sticks out tongue*

The Lil Boy - Age 3: "I don't feel like going to their house." "Why not, T?" "It always smells like a whole lot of farts." (I could not argue with his logic. We went to the movies that day.)

The Lil Girl - Age 2: "Us daddy is gonna take us to the park." "Pumpkin, 'OUR daddy is gonna take us to the park.' " *shakes head* "No Mama, not YOUR daddy, US daddy." "No baby, it's not 'us daddy,' it's 'our daddy.' " *explosive giggles* "You silly Mama. We don't have the same daddy."

The Lil Boy - Age 4: "Where are we going?" "To Paw Paw's house." "My black Paw Paw or my white Paw Paw." *blank stare from me*

The Lil Girl - Age 3: (Overheard conversation with my good friend) "Where is Christian?" "He's punished." "You forgot I was coming or something?"

The Lil Boy - Age 2: "Lil Man, we're gonna have a new baby." "Where?? Where is it!!" "Oh it's not here yet, it's in my stomach." *starts crying* "What's wrong son?" "You ATE IT!! YOU ATE OUR BABY!!"

The Lil Girl - Age 4 - "He makes me SICK!" "Who?" "My brother! He thinks he is the boss. Will you please go tell him that I am the boss! Not him!"

The Lil Boy - Age 7: (Background story - When they were 1 and 3, the lil girl decided that she wanted his meatball, went to his plate, grabbed it and took a bite. He subsequently started screaming and crying. The following is his reaction four years later.) "I can't believe that little bitty girl took my meatball off my plate, and ALL I did was cried. . . I just can't believe it. [trailing off] All I did was cried. . ." (I'm wondering if this will come up in a therapy session.)

The Lil Girl - Age 5: (Looking at a rainbow boa constrictor at the zoo.) *sigh* "That's all I've wanted all my life."

The Lil Boy - Age 5: "Son, why the hell were you swinging a belt at school? Didn't I tell you that could really hurt somebody?" "This boy pushed me, then his big cousin pushed me. So I told them that I was gonna tell the teacher and they wouldn't let me go. So I took off my belt and got to swingin'." (Who can argue with logic like that?)

The Lil Girl - Age 4: "Mama, I heard you laughing when Dave Chappelle said a curse word. You say curse words too. When can I say a curse word?!" "When I was watching Chappelle, you were supposed to be upstairs. How do you know what I was laughing at?" "We gotta go upstairs everytime people say a curse word? [mumbles to herself] We can't NEVER be downstairs." (Yes, I have subsequently made efforts to clean up my language. Freakin responsibilities.)

The Lil Boy - Age 7: "So where are you about to go?" "To the airport." "What are you going to do with the rental car?" "Oh, I'm going to bring it to the rental car office?" "Well, how are you gonna get to the airport if you're gonna leave the car?" "They have a shuttle that brings me from the rental office to the airport." *thinks a minute* "You gonna put some gas in your car right?" "Yeah." "Don't do that when you talk on your cell phone. Paw Paw said that's dangerous." "Okay son. Anything else?" *thinks another minute, then gives me a hug* "Nah, you're cool."

The Lil Girl - Age 4: (Overheard conversation with my aunt.) "That dress is so pretty. Are you gonna let me borrow it?" *with a WTF look* "Oh no! You are too big for MY dress. You are way way way too big for my dress." *Aunt chuckes* "Alright you! I get it." "You are too too big for this dress. What you wanna do? Break it?" (Okay, I HAD to punish her, because that was borderline disrespect, but I'll be damned if my cousins and I didn't collapse laughing once the aunt and the girl were out of earshot.)

Conversation between the two: "Girl, shut up." "Don't tell me shut up boy! Shut don't go up, crisis do!"

The Lil Boy - Age 6: "Mama, this boy called me the 'n' word today and you told me black people shouldn't never never call other black people that. So I punched him in the mouth." (Somehow, I think there still was a lesson lost somewhere in there.)

The Lil Girl - Age 5: (Pointing at my left ring finger) "Where is your ring?" "I don't have a ring ma, because I don't have a husband." "My daddy has a ring." "That's right, because he has a wife. I don't have a ring there because I don't have a husband." *thinks a minute* "Well, you don't need need no husband, but you need to get a ring on your finger." (Budding feminist?)

I could write all day about the stuff they say that I deem hilarious (I won't even touch the things they actually DO), however, I will spare you good people. Feel free to drop some of your own kids' (or nieces/nephews', godchirren's) pearls of wisdom in the comments.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Beautiful. . .like a rainbow

"You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh I realize
It's hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small"
- Cyndi Lauper

The other day (maybe yesterday) I got one of those circulating email quizzes. For lack of something better to do, not only did I reply to it, but I read the replies of others as well. Invariably, I saw the same thing over and over. When asked whether or not they viewed themselves as attractive, almost all of the people replied either, "no", "I'm just okay" or something to that effect? I almost felt vain answering yes. Almost.

What world is it that we live in, that not only will society judge us harshly, but we judge ourselves even MORE harshly? When did it become taboo to find yourself attractive? To see the beauty in yourself? I mean, no, I'm not Halle Berry, or Gabrielle Union or whoever the kids are into these days, but who says I have to be? Chocolate cake and fried chicken don't taste the same, but I'll be damned if they ain't both delicious.

Now I'm sure that some folks gave the "aw shucks" response out of some sense of modesty, but, the question remains, why can't you express a positive sentiment about your looks just because you don't fit into some imaginary mold?

I can guarantee that there are at least 40 things that a person can pick on me about in the looks department and you know what? So what. I'm going to get thousands of messages via the media that points out one deficiency or another. Therefore, opinons on the aesthetics of Mamba are little more than lips flapping in the breeze. Yes, I DO like to be thought of as pretty. Yes, I AM flattered and get giddy when I receive a compliment. But when all is said and done, that doesn't validate me anymore than an individual telling me that I'm ugly makes me void. I would like to think that my looks convey my spirit, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is a beautiful thing.