desperate cry for help | Mitzi Moments

makin’ it hot for real victims…

By Mitzi on September 18, 2009 in desperate cry for help, end of days, tapped out, too old for the road, why we as a people can't get ahead

OMG, I was so blown when I heard that the Hostra chick who cried gang rape was straight up lying. Like, who does that?? Um hello, this is 2009. If you want to get it poppin’ with 5 boys in the bathroom at school dance then that’s ya business. Granted, you wouldn’t be no friend of mine but still… go ‘head ma.

The whole situation is tragic. Putting those boys and their families through the ringer b/c she didn’t want her boyfriend to find out that she was a lil’ fast ass? When all along homegirl was more than a willing participant in the amateur porn shenanigans.

Not for nothing, if it was MY son that was accused of some random mess like this, I’d press criminal charges in the blink of an eye AND then sue the shit outta that loony tune. Of course, this is after I beat fire outta him for even being involved in some foolishness like running a train with four of his friends. Sigh. I. Can’t.

Jesus be the camera phone that set them free.

pants on fire…

By Mitzi on September 3, 2009 in desperate cry for help, pocket full of dirty tissue, tapped out, too old for the road

Um, so what a minute. Just so I’m clear- that whole story about pioneer female rapper Roxanne Shante negotiating to get a Ph.D as part of her payment from the record company is a lie??? Well damn, I don’t even know what to say.

Not for nothing, I JUST saw her being honored at this Women in Hip-Hip Achievement dinner thingy not too long ago… Sigh. It’s just so sad when people lie to get attention and then get caught out like this.

Kinda reminds me of good ‘ole Tyler Perry. Remember how long he was running around here insisting that he was heterosexual? Oh wait, he’s still talking that ‘ish. My bad.

lowest common denominator…

By Mitzi on August 28, 2009 in desperate cry for help, made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, tapped out

Okay- so in the pure, unadulterated tomfoolery of the day: the unnamed Tunisian woman who earlier this week claimed to be pregnant with twelve kids via IVF has been exposed as a fraud. And surprise, surprise, suddenly homegirl and her aiding and abetting husband have gone into hiding. Whatever.

I know everyone wants to famous/ special and important but who-in-the-worthless-excuse-for-a-life hell lies about being pregnant with 12 kids? No ma’am, this type of foolishness is a perfect example of what happens when folks start talking just to hear the sound of their voices.

Jesus be the overbooked looney bin.

lord…

By Mitzi on July 31, 2009 in desperate cry for help, going to hell in a handbasket, moment of silence, too old for the road

So if you were wondering how long it was going to take Eminem to respond to Ms. Mariah’s cute little single, Obsessed (which for the record, I actually like), this video is your answer.

Dayum… can you feel the shank? Marshall went IN.

Ya know, I might be going out on a limb here BUT I’m thinking that Mariah and Nick should probably just go sit down somewhere, be quiet and reflect for a sec. Cause I don’t care how many red carpets you wanna wear between now and forever and this right here… this is NOT okay.

one call I won’t accept…

By Mitzi on July 30, 2009 in desperate cry for help, end of days, it takes a village, made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, why we as a people can't get ahead

When I first read about Rodell Vereen, the South Carolina man that was arrested for having sex with the same horse for the SECOND time (um yeah, you read that right. He actually did it once before but the cops weren’t able to clearly identify him on the stable’s surveillance tape until now), my initial response was to vomit in my mouth. I mean the mental image on that was just too much for my nerves this early in the day…

But then, and feel free to call me crazy, I started to feel bad for homeboy… Mmm-hmm, yeah, I admit it. I actually felt bad for the greasy-looking sexual deviant.

Why? Well, it could be that I’m PMSing and my hormones are all outta wack. Still, call it a hunch but something tells me that he probably isn’t the brightest or wealthiest individual (otherwise, he’d have his own private stable of horse to bonk, no?). So he’s gonna have to reach out to some damn body to bail him out the clinker, right? And the only person you could conceivable call at a time like that would be the poor woman that gave birth to you. And can you EVEN imagine how that conversation went??

“Um yeah, Mommma? Hi. So listen, what had happened was… these folks done caught me getting it in with the neighbor’s filly. And now, well, I’m locked up. Mm-hmm, yes ma’am, as in having sex with the horse. No, no, nothing’s wrong with your hearing. You heard me correctly. S-E-X. But I swear, I she wanted it too… (insert sound of woman wailing and sudden dial tone) Hello? Hello?”

Sigh, poor thang. Let the prayer circle commence.

carry your own weight…

By Mitzi on July 28, 2009 in desperate cry for help, end of days, pocket full of dirty tissue, supermarket dreams on a bodega budget, why we as a people can't get ahead

Okay see now…

I’m just as worried as the next American about the sky-rocketing costs of medical care. Shoot, truth be told, probably a little more so considering I got the nerve to be a self-employed liver transplant recipient and whatnot. HOWSOMEVER, what we’re NOT gonna do is blame fat people for all of our problems in the 23.5 hour.

Uh-uh, all these recent recent reports about obesity-related health issues costing the US $147 billion dollars a year? No ma’am, I will not co-sign…

Why? Cause real talk? We’re all responsible. Those of who watched bedridden people get lifted out of homes with a crane and the lil’ Maury kids roll themselves on and off the stage every week like it wasn’t a big deal are just as guilty as the individuals who allowed themselves to become overweight b/c of sheer laziness and then developed health issues (as opposed to a medical condition being the REASON they were overweight to begin with). Yeah, I said it.

Our country didn’t JUST become the land of the steroid-infused chickens, triple Whoppers and Diet Cokes. We’ve been overindulging for YEARS!! So don’t get mad now that the babies you raised on Twinkies, packaged sandwich meats and watching TV instead of going outside to run around don’t have the slightest clue how to drop those extra HUNDRED or so pounds.

Jesus be the government that put half as much energy into making sure folks have just as much access to affordable healthy foods/ information on how to live better/ gym memberships as we do a $1 menus/frozen dinners/ happy hours at the local bar.

Maybe then, things might truly be a whole lot different.

triple whopper and diet coke, please

By Mitzi on July 23, 2009 in desperate cry for help, love be a cellulite cream, pocket full of dirty tissue, work it white girl

Hmmm, so the New York Times is reporting that Manhattan is the thinnest county in New York State. Apparently the average across the state is 60% and we’re at an impressive 42% low.

Can’t say I’m uber surprised with all the models, artists, Euro-trash, Stepford wives and beautiful Chelsea boys fa-la-laing all over the damn place. But what is interesting is how honest the folks they interviewed about being skinny were about how they felt about the socioeconomic implications of being overweight.

“My mom says, ‘The smaller the dress size, the larger the apartment,'” said one Upper Eastsider.

Well damn, tell ‘em how you really feel ma. Right?

Mind you, although I thought some of these chicks were doing way too much for me to co-sign (so what you’re saying is, you’re 5-foot-8, 119lbs and you’re not tossing your cookies after every meal? Really?). I gotta admit, I definitely identified with one of the interviewees- Simon Doonan, 56, the creative director of Barney’s. Good ole Simon was the only person honest enough to attribute the borough’s obsession with weight to straight up, simple and plain, FEAR.

“Or closets are filled with all these expensive clothes that are like swords of Damocles, because we may not fit into them anymore.” Preach.

Cause the good Lord knows, my closet may only be filled with H&M, random sample sale finds and a couple of cute pieces from the GAP (gotta get the shout out in) but I damn sure can’t afford to replace nam stitch of it right about now.

SO until the majority of the styles at Target start to cater to the short and curvy (and please believe I check in on a regular basis), I too will be unabashedly dragging my butt to the stinky NYSC and trying to make the magic happen.

the blueprint…

By Mitzi on July 14, 2009 in desperate cry for help, it takes a village, Mitzi- all day every day

So I went by the NAACP Convention site (the New York Hilton on 6th Ave) yesterday afternoon to kinda scope out the lay of the land and try to drum -up a little last minute publicity for today’s signing- ’cause you know mama is all about the grass root movement.

And can I tell you? There are SO MANY black people in that damn building!! It was like a multi-generational HBCU campus….. Crazy. Please don’t let anyone fool you, the NAACP is still alive and kicking.

I was thinking, if Vernon Jordan was really smart, he’d cut all that damn rallying down and start a NAACP dating service. You know something like, www.blackfolkwithcommonsensemeet.com. Fifty bucks says the registration numbers would be through the ROOF!!! and then, when you had successful matches, people might be more willing to give back and donate. I can see it now- “I met my husband at the NAACP and now, we’re lifetime members.”

Mmm-hmmm, laugh if you want… But I digress.

For those coming out this afternoon (4-6p), the Author’s Pavilion is on the 3rd floor in the back to your left. Just take the escalators straight up and then hang a left when you walk in. You can’t miss it or me- in my pretty dress.

it comes in 3s…

By Mitzi on July 7, 2009 in desperate cry for help, it takes a village, using our powers for good

As much as I hate it to do it, I gotta call a spade, a spade: It’s been a bad meaning bad, NOT bad meaning good couple of weeks for the folks. Mmm-hmmm…

First we lost the King of Pop, then VIBE Magazine folded (say what you want but for the record, this was where I earned my very first major magazine cover byline. Thanks Danyel!) and now the very married Super Bowl Quarterback Steve McNair was found shot up like Swiss cheese in a condo with his 20 year-old ‘girlfriend.’ Sigh.

My people, my people, we gots to do better.

wrong on so many levels…

By Mitzi on July 2, 2009 in desperate cry for help, i'm not ready to be a grandmother, made for the maury show, supermarket dreams on a bodega budget, tagging out, why we as a people can't get ahead

Err-um, why is Ruby (my neighbor’s bad ass miniature chihuahua) pregnant AGAIN?

Like seriously? Not for nothing, all that runt does is bark her head off, pee on my doormat and get knocked up. She’s like the four-legged welfare queen of my building. It’s too much.

So anyhoo, I go over to offer my congrats on the impeding births. Cause you know, rule number 1000001 to surviving life in the hood: do not judge. If you don’t think four dogs ( 2 chihuahuas and 2 pitbulls) in one cramped two bedroom apt isn’t already a lot, so be it. Have at it.

But wait on it… don’t you know this hooker is knocked up by her own son from the last litter, Brownie!?!?!

Ruby + Brownie= a little bit of vomit in my mouth right now.

Jesus be the ASPCA because yours truly is DONE.

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