Author: Mitzi

So did everyone see the celeb-packed Hope for Haiti Telethon? Really? Must be nice. Unfortunately, thanks to raggedy-ass Time Warner Cable, I didn’t get to see SHIT. Nope, not a thing.


But thank God I have friends. So even when I’m unable to witness the well intended tomfoolery firsthand, my peeps are more than happy to run back and report on it. Thanks Mali!

Exhibit A: Madonna

Let’s not even bother to discuss her increasing inability to even PRETEND like she can sing (although kudos on bringing in the big Black choir to serve as a distraction). I just want to know, What in the unholy-cut up and snatched back-hell happened to her face???

Why does Madonna look like 50 year-old washed out version Tila Tequila?

And my guess is that she just underwent this latest round of surgeries (yes plural), within the last couple of weeks. Why? Forget about smiling, if you watch closely (okay, not even that closely), you’ll see that she’s barely able to move her head from side-to-side. Not to mention, her face is still super shiny and swollen (hence, the missing cheekbones). Poor thang.

While I truly admire her willingness to come out of recovery to perform for the cause, I’m just not quite sure this was the best look for the Material Girl. No offense. Perhaps she should’ve just answered the phones…

Goodness gracious, it sure is hard keeping up with Demi Moore.

Okay here’s the thing, when it comes to other folk’s relationships, I do my damdest not to judge. If you like it, I love it. If you love it, I adore it. I don’t know what compromises it takes for you to close your eyes and go to sleep peacefully next to that man/woman every night. And quite frankly, it’s NOT my business.

With that said; while I will never advocate or co-sign on the act of sleeping with/ dating someone who is legally married, I’d be a fool to think it doesn’t happen… Shoot, my some of the better people I know and love (heeey Dad!) have been perpetrators of this kind of selfish & thoughtless behavior. Unfortunately, it is what it is.

But by nature, humans are imperfect and bound to make mistakes. The important thing is: You live, you learn, in some cases you get divorced but above all you DISCREETLY move on.

Unfortunately, it seems that recently the concept of discretion has been lost on modern day women and men who practice of tricking. Sigh.

Exhibit A: The random ass, two-bit, former sidepiece of Charles E. Phillips — president of tech conglomerate Oracle and wait on it… a member of Obama’s Economic Recovery Advisory Board. Yeah, he’s THAT dude. (Somebody throw me in the coffin NOW, please)

Apparently after Phillips finally ended the 8.5 year long affair in a last ditch attempt to save his family and reconcile with his wife, this bish went and paid at least a quarter million for several BILLBOARD SIGNS across the COUNTRY (3 alone are in NYC. Check it out on the corner of W. 52nd and Broadway) showing pictures of two all hugged up and canoodling with statements that read: Charles & YaVuaghnie… I will love you forever. “

WOAH.

Phillip, Phillip, Phillip… oh buddy, the HATE in my heart for you. 8.5 years? You done stepped out on your wife & kids for EIGHT & A HALF years with a triflin’ chick crazy enough to plaster BILLBOARDS around the NATION?? Ultimately you are the one who’s most responsible for this madness. And you deserve EVERY sleepless night of embarrassment you endure Mr. Super Exec and Obama Advisory Board Member. You sir, are an unbelievably worthless man.

How-some-ever, instead of billboards I wish she would’ve messengered this info in a LETTER to every board member at Oracle and the Advisory board. Instead, his wife and kids must suffer this a heartbreaking public humiliation. Cause be clear, no matter what her reasons for staying in this train wreck of a situation, this woman has to wake up every day and swallow the fact that the man she married clearly didn’t love her enough to protect her and her children. And that is a bitter pill I hope that no one I care about EVER has to swallow.

And as for YaVaunie (and every other adultress reading this):
Hello??? YOU are the other woman. You know, as in NOT THE WIFE. Stay your no self-esteem having/ trashy-behind in ya lane! I don’t care how many times he says he loves you, you are not special. And no ho, they DON’T LEAVE their real families. So, stop trying to drag his entire everybody down in the crazy!

Plastering 3-foot tall billboards is not going to change ANYTHING. You WILLINGLY wasted 8.5 years of your life on someone not worth the phlem on the sole of your shoe. That was YOUR FAULT! Further embarrassing yourself buy putting up these signs and a website dedicted to the relationship is TRAGIC and PATHETIC.

And if it was MY damn husband? The Lord knows I’m trying to be a better person but… After I leave him scarred, penniless, and living in fear for his life under a ROCK somewhere, please believe I’m coming to kick your ass too!

Bet on that.

So really quickly can I tell you how crazy my JetBlue flight back to the US was?


Like real, talk? I thought I was gonna DIE. And before you assume that I’m just being over dramatic, just know that JetBlue just issued every passenger on the flight a $50 credit towards their next flight on the airline because the situation was so crazy. Okay?

So essentially what had happened is our plane unexpectedly hit a cross gulf airstream. Now normally when this occurs there’s a bit of turbulence but the airplane (which is going faster) gets through it. Apparently, this cross stream was a tad stronger than expected. Now, when I tell you it felt like the plane hit a BRICK WALL?? Seriously? It felt like the plane bounced back off of a wall and then straight dropped down a couple hundred feet!

Yo, I was so freaked out, big fat tears just started involuntarily popping outta my eyes. And it take A LOT to make me cry.

Between the TVs/ lights going out, the grown ass man sitting next to me, screaming “Oh my god, we’re over the ocean, we’re still over the ocean!” over ‘n over, and the woman two seats behind who was hysterically hyperventilating at the top of her lungs, I was DONE. All I could think about was the number of senseless tragedies that have been happening (and how much I did NOT wanna die with a bunch of random folks around me)….Oh and the fact that I didn’t bother to call my mom before we took off. #worstdaughterintheworld

I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to land at JFK in my LIFE! And while I appreciate the $50 credit, I don’t know ya’ll, I really don’t know… this might be my year to get very familiar with trains and automobiles.

Drumroll please!

And according to random.org the winner of the MitziMoments ‘Better Booty in 2010′ giveaway is…

CANNON!!

Congrats my dear! May your new curvy bootleg GAP jeans give your butt the extra lift & umph we all desire!

To receive your prize, please email your mailing info to: mitzimoments@gmail.com


*For the record, the original winner of this contest was actually my fabulous friend and co-author Denene Millner. But since, I already know how ya’ll conspiracy/ life-is-a-hook-up folks think, I snatched the prize back and had the computer pick another number. Sorry ‘Nene…

Just when you thought there was no commonsense at work in the world (Um, hello Massachusetts?) look how God will surprise you.



*and the choir starts to hum and sway*


DEAD FISH EYES

Okay… So essentially what you’re saying is that this grown ass man thought he could snatch up a stranger’s child, slap the baby 5-6 times and then just keep it moving to the checkout line?

CRICKETS

I’m starting to believe that kind of tomfoolery deserves its own category of criminal charges. You know, something like, reckless sense of entitlement while operating under the influence of ignorance. Yeah. Just. Like. That.

OMG, I think I just discovered who Beyonce has been stealing all of her recent leotard-clad video moves from.Umm-hmmm… Ladies and gents, I present to you- Miss Tandi Dupree!

DEAD.

Now if the intro doesn’t send you into spasms, please just wait on her little jog down the runway around 2:38 min.

AND STINKING.

When I tell you the fabulous Miss Dupree gave me LIFE on this dreary Tuesday morning??? Trust, I’m headed to the nearest costume store as you read this. Please do not be alarmed if you happen to see me sometime soon high-kicking and plopping down into splits at the drop of a dime on a corner near you.

You know, just for shits and giggles.

There’s a lot of information out there about how and what to donate to Haiti. Which is good but unfortunately, can be a little overwhelming.


For those who’d like to do a little bit more than send $5 by texting Wyclef’s non-profit Yele at 501501, check out community activist, writer and former Real World cast mate Kevin Powell’s website.

Not only does Kevin’s site provide a list of credible organizations to donate money, there’s a list of specific supplies that are needed (water, water, water, food, toiletries and clothes) as well as sources of information on the history of Haiti (which will make it more clear why this disaster is such a tragedy).

While the outlook may look really grim, it’s not over yet… get informed and please stay involved!

After a jam-packed weekend in the hot Barbados sun and a HARROWING flight home (which I will describe in greater detail later), I’m back! And just in time to properly celebrate Martin Luther King Day with a day of service.


So I, along with three of my girls will be forsaking our warm beds and joining the illustrious non-profit Hip Hop 4 Life at MS 424 Hunts Point Middle School in the Bronx as they paint inspirational murals, build bookshelves, cubbies, desks and mural benches for libraries & classrooms as well as pack food for those in need. ‘Cause not for nothing, at the end of the day, prayers are helpful but some back-breaking work goes a really, really long way.

Hope you too are somewhere doing something more to honor Dr. King and his legacy than scooping up the MLK Day sales… *dead fish eyes*

Praise God my flight into Barbados went off without a hitch or even a single crying ass baby!

So now I’m here and slowly settling in. You know, it takes a minute to unwind from the New York state of mind. Plus it prob didn’t help that I damn near got arrested at the customs counter for not knowing the exact name of my host hotel. Who knew it was that serious? Sigh. Don’t judge me.

For the record, press trips are always a gamble when it comes to the group of journalist that you’re going to be stuck with for said amount of days. But I’m relieved to report that I’m in the company of some seriously hilarious females writers. My faves, Tracy a.k.a @wonkabar is a young upstart at the new Honeymag.com (ain’t life ironic?) and Charay a.k.a @mamazun writes for some travel mag but more importantly, she’s a spoken word poet who swears that her cadence has nothing in common with what we remember from Love Jones (oh please believe, I’ve been throwing mad side-eye on that ALL day ’cause Lord knows I can’t stand the power-to-the people/ oil ‘n incense/ bull’ish).

I forsee lots of tomfoolery over the next couple of days….

And as if the blue skies, ridiculous rum punch and making MORE new friends wasn’t enough, for the first time I watched Smokey Robinson perform live! Woah. That blue-eyed brother is the truth. His show was like 2.5 hours cause the catalog is so sick. And I’m not even gonna get into the outfit changes. From the shiny baby blue suit to the bright red leather pants to the … let’s just say the man is an entertainer. I’ll be snapping my fingers and humming ‘My Girl’ for a hot min.

Sing it with me now….

I suck at packing.

No matter how early I begin, inevitably, I will always wind up throwing the last items into my bag and rushing out the door with moments to spare-if that. So needless to say, I’ve only got about 10 minutes to gush about how excited I am to be headed to Barbados for the weekend to check out the island and attend the annual Barbados Jazz Festival. Fingers crossed it will be LOTS of fun and tomfoolery to report.

Shout out to Nicole for inviting me to the Rih-Rih concert where I met the representative from the Barbados Tourism Board Director. Now that’s what friends are for!



And while you’re waiting to hear back from me, please be sure to vote in the Mitzi Moments Better Booty in 2010 giveaway and PRAY from the people of Haiti/ Dominican Republic. 7.0 on the Richter scale is no joke and they need all the positive energy (and monetary donations) we can spare.


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