Author: Mitzi

Ummm, why is it always so hard to get ready to go out of town?

It’s not like, I didn’t know that I was going to DC for the inaguration all of ten seconds after CNN declared Obama’s victory… Yet and still here I am the day before I leaving running around like a chicken with out a head.

I am so EXCITED. I cannot believe that I am alive to witness a Black man become the President of the United States. I swear to God, this is bigger than the day the video for Thriller premiered on channel 5. When I think back over the past two years… all the anticipation before he finally declared, all the naysayers who were concerned that he didn’t have enough experience, Jeremiah Wright, Hillary Clinton, damn Sarah Palin…. my god. But we made it.

And now I’m off to handle the nails and hair (cause we all know Barack doesn’t want me in DC without my hair did). Hopefully, I’ll see some of you guys there… If not, be sure to look for me on CNN in the middle of the masses in somewhere near the front but not too far from the back. I’ll be the short chick with the big hair losing her mind and falling out as if I’ve won the lotto.

I swear ‘fo God, I will never, ever, ever, ever talk about Black people and the names they give (or rather make-up for) their kids again. NEVER.

‘Cause you know what? Ain’t nothing wrong with the name Alexus Camry Laquanna Shalamieka Brown compared to JoyceLynn ARYAN NATION Campbell. Mmhmmm, you read that correctly- JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell is the forreal, forreal government name of some unfortunate white child.

Blame it on the pesky pinktoe sense of entitlement, but Mr. & Mrs. Campbell didn’t have a problem naming her or her two brothers-Adolf Hitler Campbell and Honszlynn Hinler Campbell- after murderers and racist institutions. Five bucks say not nary a one will ever hold a government job…

But no worries, apparently because of the blatantly racist overtones of the kids’ names, the parents/ family landed on the Child Protective Services shit list. Go figure. And the other day, the kids were snatched out of the home for reasons yet divulged. Just like that.

Lemme find out all that legal eavesdropping on citizens that George Bush came up with turned out to be good for something…

Question- do Black people really date? Oh yeah? I don;t know, I’m not always convinced…

I vividly remember back in the day when I lived in CT and attended a primarily white school. Any number of my female white classmates, would go out of these mythical “dates” with a Tom on Friday, meet-up with Dick after the hockey game on Sat and then study with Harry on Wednesday. And wonders of all wonders, everyone knew about it on Monday. But none of the three guys was remotely upset or even called her a slut-bag because she was what? DATING. And god bless her heart, she wasn’t required to be exclusive and chose to see as many guys as a weekend could hold.

Now take that same scenerio amongst the African -American students. Let’s say Shaniqua kicked with Tyrone on Friday, hung out with DaQuan at the roller rink on Sat and met up with Marcell on Sunday after church. And same way, by Monday morning everyone would know. BUT, in this case the ENTIRE school would be calling her a two-bit trick. By the Monday afternoon, Tyrone would’ve beat Daquan ass and gotten suspended for two weeks. Then after the final bell rang, Marcell’s two sisters (that went to the other high school across town for juvenile deliquents) would’ve arrived to cuss poor Shaniqua out for trying to be cute and playing their baby brother out.

Laugh all you want, you know I’m right.

So now fast forward a bit and tell me this… is it because of the aforementioned unspoken but widely accepted black dating rule that the majority of us are conditioned to deal with only one person at a time? And more depressingly, even as supossedly mature adults we continue to behave like we OWN (lock, stock and shackled) every person we’ve ever dated years after the break-up?

It must be. Cause this the ONLY rational reason that I can conjur up with to explain why 60% of you would get pissed off if a JUMP-OFF decided to seriously date your friend.

Forreal, forreal? That wasn’t your soulmate… that’s an individual that you had sex with during creep hours. You know, the one that you wouldn’t bother to call because a simple ‘What’s good?’ text was more than enough to get the party started. Mmm-hmmm. So then tell me, how in the world do you earn the right to feel aways because they genuinely like your friend and want to date her/him? Uh-uh save your breath. I don’t care how you wanna spin it, you’re a hater.

Or maybe I grew up around too many pinktoes… Because I’m so with the 39% who could give a crap what a booty buddy does after I’m finished with the situation. I’ve have always believed in the throwaway theory- one woman’s trash is another woman’s treasure. There is no need to hoard any of the eligible jump-offs in the world. If he’s worth the trip across town, you really only need one at a time anyway.

Besides, I’m too busy trying to meet my Mr. Right. With any luck, dating you will keep that fool from texting me again. Okay?

Every once in a while, I’ll hear about a crime that is so unbelievably heinous it makes me physically ill. And this comes from the mouth of an admittedly jaded New Yorker, so you know.

And although I’ve never been the free-wheeling death penalty advocate, there are certain instances where I wholeheartedly believe some folks just need to go back to God and stage a do-over on life. You know, not just for me and society but really, for their own good. And err-um, Andre Thomas… It’s your time dude.

First, back in March 2004 this fool confessed to stabbing his estranged wife, their young son and her 13-month-old daughter to death. Mind you, he also ripped out all of their hearts. Yeah, as in cut open and pulled out.

Then while awaiting trial, Mr. Thomas yanked out his left eye out of the socket. Yes sir, pulled that mo-fu OUT with his own hands. Sick yet?

No? Well how ’bout this- Apparently last week the deranged psycho finally finished the job. He snatched out his remaining eye and ATE that shit. READ: chewed and swallowed it.

Po-po said that when they finally found him, dude’s face was COVERED in blood (feel free to insert image of me screaming my own head off as I read this).

Mmm-hmmm, barf bags are located in the seat pockets directly in front of you.

But the best part? It’s only NOW that the authorities want to send this looney tune to a mental institution. So lemme get htis straight? Ya’ll JUST now realized his was mentally ill? Uh-uh. Forget the war, we gonna need education reform RIGHT NOW. Cause the people in charge are beyond stoopid.

I mean, at this point we can forget the padded room. They need to special order rush that ass to the electric chair! I dare you to find ONE person who won’t co-sign on a take-two. Shiiieeet. GOOD LUCK.

Um, WHY did the Mayor of Baltimore just get indicted on 12 counts of accepting illegal gifts, four counts of perjury and two counts of theft over $500? Seriously? 8 measly days away from the first Black President being sworn into office and THIS is what you wanna do Sheila Dixon?

Talking about, “I am being unfairly accused. Time will prove that I have done nothing wrong, and I am confident that I will be found innocent of these charges.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, we already know the story S-Boogie. They set you up. They MADE you take the gifts. Umm-hmm, okay Mayor Berry… I mean Dixon. My bad. I dont know why I keep getting the names of all the crackhead Mayors mixed-up like that. So sorry.

Can I tell you? Initially, in the spirit of having hope and believing in change, I really, really wanted to belileve that there was a misunderstanding. But once I read the list of ‘gifts': fur coat, travel and multiple gift certificates for an XBox, PlayStation2, camcorder and clothes… Fur coat and an Xbox? Man listen, lock that trick up under the jail.

I swear, this is just further proof that everybody ain’t gonna make it into the promiseland.

I promise you, I have some of the BESTEST ex-boyfriends in the world. Like I always say, as soon I end a relationship, shit just comes together for the dude. Out of nowhere they all transform into these intelligent, caring, mature MEN. You know, the great guys who are always willing to lend a hand or listen when you need to vent? Suddenly, they want to share and confide. Mind you, wasn’t nary of this generousity or openess in effect during the time we were officially ‘girlfriend and boyfriend.’ But you know why, right? Keyword: END.

Uh-huh, its heartbreaking but the majority of negros gots to have their toys taken away before they can figure out how to play nice.
So it makes sense why 40%, can envision yourselves getting married to an ex if he were to show up on the doorstep with ring RIGHT NOW. Afterall, when they’re not pissing you off on a regular basis, the potential that attracted you to them initially becomes visible again. And not for nothing but after all that work you done put it? Shaping and molding that fool? Yeah, I can see how that might could be the golden ticket.

But after careful thought, I’m rolling with the 60% who have absolutely no interest in marrying any of my exs that are still available if they showed up on the doorstep. No sir. It ain’t that damn easy. And you and I BOTH know that as soon as you start laying up under me again the tomfoolery will commence. And bigger than the fact that NO ONE will remotely feel sorry for you (’cause you should’ve known better), I’m just not interested. No thank you.
Call it what you want but I prefer my exs kissing my ass than being my lawfully wedded pain in the ass.

I see I’m not the only one who doesn’t like it when people show up at my apartment unannounced…

Apparently,a panda bear bit the crap out of a man who jumped in his pen to retrieve a toy that had fallen over the railing at the Beijing Zoo. Daaaammmmn… I thought panda were suppossed to be friendly, social-type creatures.

But bigger than the panda with an attitude, WHY was this man able to simply HOP a little fence?? What in the world? WHY was the fence that low?

And please don’t tell me it’s so people can get up close and personal with nature. Cause THAT is not nature. Not even on a dare. THAT is a wild animal that’s been caged up AGAINST it’s will for our amusement. What would make you think they’re remotely happy to see you? Mmm-hmmm, like ELsa used to tell me- keep playin’ if you want to.

Personally, my scary behind will take a good ole American zoo with triple layers of plexiglass and the sky-high electric fence enclosure with enough voltage to shock that ass to death if a strand of hair brushes against it any day of the damn week. If and when I want so see some “nature” I’ll go chill in Central Park and watch the shirtless white boys play football in the dead of winter. That’s enough wildlife for me, thank you very much.

Okay Dr. Richard Batista, you listen up. I don’t know what kinda God-complex you’re working with over there in Long Island but just in case no one around you has the god-given COMMONSENSE to keep it real with you, let me be the first.

Here is what you will NOT, I repeat, you WILL NOT be doing in 2009: Suing your ex-wife to get back the kidney that you donated to her while you two were married. NO SIR, not today, tomorrow or EVER, EVER.

Just because your ex-wife had an affair, it does not entitle you to have your kidney back. Be clear, I ain’t saying the cheating wasn’t messed up. Especially after you basically saved her life and whatnot but forreal, forreal? You need to get it TOGETHER.
This ain’t no freaking playground. You can’t get mad and snatch back your toys cause your little feelings got hurt. IDIOT.
Even if I wasn’t a transplant survivor (which I am), I’d be sucking my two front- teeth and giving you the ice cold side-eye. Yes, you and the ambulance chasing- cracker jack box degree having-lawyer that fixed his face to tell you this was a viable case. Talking ’bout you want your kidney or 1.5 million dollars. Shiiiieeeeet. I wish somebody would…

Both of ya’ll need to go sit your behinds down somewhere. Like, NOW.

Alot of my poll questions come directly from conversations with friends (yes, we probably spend a lot more time than necessary talking about sex and the politics of sex). But then there are some questions that come straight out of the inappropriate/ politically incorrect corner in my mind. I’ll admit, the question, “Do you remember everyone that you’ve ever had sex with?” came out of the corner.

And I must admit, it is really impressive to learn that a whopping 80% of you guys are able to recall the names of ALL the people you’ve slept with. Most of us have been at this for more than a decade, so my guess is either you’re really good at holding out, secretly keeping a list or got the memory of a freakin’ elephant.

As for the 20% who can’t… Well lets just say, I’m not mad. Shoot, unless you’re out there having unprotected sex, who needs to remember all the names of people that in the grand scheme of life meant as much as the UPS man that drops off packages at your mom’s house?

Keep it real, don’t we all lie about the number anyway? If it’s super high, you’re gonna make it lower to avoid seeming slutty. If it’s super low, you’ve got to make it higher for anyone to believe you. Sorry kids, that’s just the breaks.

Bottom line, there are more important things to remember (like the name of the girl in the Catherine Malandrino store that can hook me up with a discount) than the guy who couldn’t get it up without wearing his favorite sweatsocks. Right?

Will somebody puh-lease explain to me what in the unholy-unsupervised-destined for jail-BeBe’s kids hell is going on in this world?

According to the AP, a four-year old boy in southern Ohio purposely shot his baby-sitter. Yup you read that correctly. But wait on it… the pre-schooler didn’t do it because the sitter was, oh I don’t know, physically/ sexually abusing him or something horrible like that. No, that would’ve been too much like right. This fool shot his sitter because the 18 year-old accidentally stepped on his foot!!! WTF!?!?!?!?
WHO THE HELL IS THIS KID??? Damn Scarface reincarnated? Lil’ dude isn’t even in kindergarten. He probably doesn’t even know his ABC’s or how to count past the number 20… And yet this pint-sized psychopath is popping off at the age of FOUR?? Uh-uh.

If you ask me, his parents need to be the first ones locked up under the jail from now until forever. Mmm-hmmm.
‘Cause why was there a loaded gun laying around in the crib where a four year-old can reach it? And since it’s obviously one of those households where the TV not the adults educate the children-what in the world kind of violent ass shows and video games did they expose him to?
Oh and as for that little mo-fu? His ass needs Jesus.
Damn a juvenile hall. He needs to be locked up in a monastery far, far away with jedi-master monks that can read his mind. And will KARATE CHOP THAT ASS every time he even dreams about doing something out-of-pocket.
It’s officially the end of days. Someone please pull the little red wagon around, I’m tagging out.

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