Category: going to hell in a handbasket

See now….

Sometimes a cause of death should just remain undisclosed. Did we really, really need to know that David Carradine was found with a rope tied to his neck and another to his genitals? Seriously? I just threw up in my mouth.

Cause now, anyone with a good gay friend (hey, G.P.) or S&M fetish (don’t even look over here)can tell you that this man done messed around and kilt himself playin‘ the reindeer games. And he was in Thailand? Land of the underage prostitutes and anything goes erotica scene? Sigh.

Damn Grasshopper…

Dayum, Craiglist just can’t catch a break!!

Not that either scenario is better than the other but at least the masseuse understood that every time she responded to an ad, there was the possibility of some craziness jumping off. This poor woman unknowingly went to sleep (mind you, their two kids were in the crib) and the man that was supposed to love her ’till death do them part set her up for the straight okey doke. Err-um, no thank you.

And what about the poor schlub who actually raped the victim? As much as rape role play ain’t never gonna be my type of hype, everyone is entitled to their own turn-on. HOWSOMEVER, there’s a gargantuan difference between fulfilling an extreme fantasy and actually committing the crime. This dude has to live with the fact that he RAPED someone for the rest of his life.

Jesus ring the bell…

Hmmm… did anyone watch that documentary ‘Farrah’s Story’, aka the Farrah Fawcett Death Watch last Friday night? Anyone? Anyone?  Anyone?

Yeah, me neither. And it’s terrible, ’cause back in the day I used to L-O-V-E me some Charlie’s Angels.  But on the forreal, forreal, I can’t get  into the idea of watching someone with a terminal disease suffer to death. Been there done that, err-um no thank you.
Granted, I totally sympathize with the whole need to call attention to the lack of resources available to fighting colorectal/ anal cancer any way possible.  But have we as a people become so desensitized to tragedy and death that an angel has to puke her guts on the camera for folks to give two cents? 
Jesus be a bit a of home-training… just a little bit.

You know there are a lot of things that just ain’t clean in the milk with folks living in this country. Yeah, yeah don’t even front.  We all know that Americans definitely contribute to our fair share of tomfoolery (i.e the group of punk ass white boys that savagely beat and killed a Mexican immigrant for kicks in Texas). But I gotta tell ya, even if this isn’t necessary the land of milk  & honey that my parents imagined it  to be when they moved here from Panama, it SURELY beats the hell outta living next to sewage drain in Mumbai, India.  Mmm-hmmm… And that’s exactly where Azharuddin Ismail, the nine year-old star of the not one, not two, not even  five, but EIGHT Oscar award-winning film Slumdog Millionaire has been chilling with his family since returning from the red carpet 3 months ago.

But wait on it… why did the government literally tear down his home the other day?  Talking about, “the ‘town’ (which is really just a group of families living in shanties attached to a drain) was squatting on government property.”  And with monsoon season around the corner, the drains needed to be cleaned out so they BULLDOZED everyone’s shit. Yep, just like that. 
Mind you, when they first came under scrutiny for the squalid conditions that these kids were going to have to return to after all the glitz and glamour of being big Hollywood and Bollywood star for a season, everyone promised them the world.  Specifically, the same gov’t that kicked in their tent flap, assured them that they would be moved to a house. Err-um, guess that didn’t happen, huh?
So basically, months being called a national hero and going to visit Mickey at Disneyland this kid is homeless.  SMH.
Jesus take the wheel, I’m jumping out here.

See now, I’m already in a mood…. 

Because I have to take Drama to see the vet this afternoon. And everybody that knows me understands that I am HIGHLY sensitive when it comes to my damn geriatric dog. 
So aside from the fact I’m certain to be at LEAST $300 poorer for today’s experience; I’m super nervous that the doctor is gonna tell me something I don’t wanna hear. Like, “No Ms. Miller the weakness in her hind legs that occasionally requires you to lift her onto the standing position is not just her trying to be stubborn.”  Sigh. Pray for me ya’ll.  Not sure I can make it without that mutt…
But THEN, I was perusing The YBF and noticed a post detailing Rick Ross’s feeble attempt to prove that his sunglasses aren’t fake. WTF??  Did you not read the letter that the white boys sent XXL? Or better yet, CAN YOU NOT read the letter the white boys sent?? ‘Cause it sure seemed pretty straightforward to me and all the millions of other literate folks laughing at you and your stylist’s dumb asses.
But wait on it… here’s the actual  explanation: 
Rick bought the sunglasses from Louis Vuitton. But afterwards, he had them customized. (Feel free insert blank star and three blinks.)  
Negro, are you serious right now? This ain’t no car!  Don’t nobody get a pair of damn sunglasses TRICKED OUT. What, was you gonna put SPINNERS on them too? I. Can’t. Officer Ricky will you and your frugazzy, Dade County swap-meet special  sunglasses puh-lease move from my eyesight?  And not now, but RIGHT NOW!

Considering how flawed modern day society’s moral compass has become, it must be extremely difficult to spread the Good Word. In all fairness, preachers pastors, priests, nuns and all members of the clergy probably do twice as much just to make half the impact. But err-um, not for nothing does it really take a $600K compensation package to get the job done? Really?

Apparently the new senior pastor at Riverside Church thinks so. And it turns out, as of this Sunday the good Pastor Braxton will be receiving:

-$250,000 in salary.
-$11,500 monthly housing allowance.
-Private school tuition for his child.
-A full-time maid.
-Entertainment, travel and “professional development” allowances.
-Pension and life insurance benefits.
-An equity allowance for him to save up to buy a home.

Far be it from me to judge who Jesus selects to be his shepard but I’m just saying- $250K base salary? A full time maid? Entertainment and travel allowance? In the midst of a global recession? Shouldn’t his ass be home, sitting still, reading the Bible looking for a sign?
Uh-uh, something just ain’t clean in the milk.

For this amount of money, I fully expect to hear about miracles popping off every single week. And not no play-play miracles either! I want reports of cripples walking, the blind being able to see and bigger than all that; good-looking, college-educated, SINGLE black men filling up the pews like it’s front row seats at a Jay-Z concert. Can I get an amen?

‘Cause as far as I’m concerned, the moment Pastor Braxton starts turning water into $20 bills, is the only day he should receive a $600k package for doing the Lord’s work. Till then, I’m gonna have to pray on it.
Happy Earth Day ya’ll!

Okay normally there is nothing funny about a suicide.  I repeat, nothing funny. But the keyword in the previous phrase would be NORMALLY.  

Yesterday afternoon,  a 50 year-old woman jumped to her death from the third floor of the Queens Center Mall atrium and wait on it… LANDED on a 17 year-old high school kid down below!!
Apparently Derrick Munoz and his girlfriend were reclining in some leather massage chairs when ‘ole girl landed dead on his head and knocked him THE FUCK OUT. Mmm-hmmm… And you know Jesus got jokes when the sign on the back of the chair said, “Sit back and relax.”
Not SIT BACK and RELAX!!! 
OK, on the forreal, forreal, who does something like this?  Who jumps over the banister in a crowded mall? And from the 3rd floor?  Come on now ma, you weren’t even going hard. I know you know somebody with a balcony on the top floor of one of those 30-story project housing buildings. If it’s your last statement, why not make it count?  Sigh, unbelievable.
Thankfully, poor Derrick finally regained consciousness in the ambulance en route to the hospital.  And aside from a large gash on his head there were no other visible signs of injury. 
Ding, ding, ding…

One of the most difficult aspects of being an adult is knowing when to say when and put yourself on time out.  

No, I’m talking about that last shot of tequila or walking away from the $900 pair of sparkly Louboutins. Nope, not that.
I’m talking when that first tickling in the back of your throat happens. And you’re sneezing every five minutes for no good reason.  It’s at those moments that you inherently know that you really, really need to pass up on dinner with the crew but since you  haven’t seen them in ‘oh-so-long’… Sigh.
When I woke up on Saturday, I KNEW I should’ve stayed my light-headed butt in bed and minded my business.  But no sir, there I was trying to be Superwoman.  Finishing up my confounded taxes, going shopping and hitting up not one but two birthday parties in a single bound.  Mmm-hmm, just like that. Crazy.
So now I’m sitting here with a pounding headache, sucking spit (cause of course, there ain’t healthy  grocery the first up in the fridge.).  I honestly keep trying to get up and be productive but something about the bile in the back of my throat just makes that seem like a really bad idea. Sigh.  I am so over myself right now.
Can somebody send me a care package, please?

Hold up, wait a minute! What you know about two old ass women coming to blows in the middle of the street over some 72-year-old piece a man?!?!?!

According to the police report filed by 78-year-old (yes, as in 7-8) Edith Mitchell: she was chillin’ in a car with her boyfriend of two years when some unnamed 73-year-old woman rolled up popping junk about that being her man and started punching poor Edith in the head!!! Mm-hmm, straight thumped her out.

Now you know, Edith ain’t get to be 78-years-old by mistake so she carried her ass in the crib, grabbed her shotgun and came out guns a-blazing on some old school western, let’s get it poppin’ bee-yatch type nonsense…

Unfortunately, the side chick was a little quicker on her feet than good ‘ole Edith. Apparently she snatched the shotgun from Edith and fired a shot. (Damn, just like that.) Thankfully, she missed Big E and no one else was fatally injured. Um, feel free to pick your face off the floor right now.

Okay seriously? There are sosososo many things wrong with this situation, I don’t even know where to begin. Forget the fact that there were two geriatric females slap boxing in the street. Lemme ask you this, where the hell was the alledged boyfriend when all this craziness was happening?? What, was he too old to get involved? And how in the world do you explain to your kids and GRANDkids what had happened to you? Uh-uh, I can’t.

Jesus come get your bey-bey kids…

So apparently the sale of sex toys is down in France.

Accordimg to the Reuters (cause no, I don’t make this foolishness up) “at ‘Big Eropolis,’ an erotic fair that opened on Friday near Paris and bills itself as the biggest of its kind in the world, attendance was healthy but stall owners said customers were not spending as much as in previous years. ” So basically what you’re telling me is that nowadays people can only afford to buy one Mandigo sized dildo as opposed to the dido, body paint, handcuffs, vibrating ring and so on?

It’s offical, times are hard my people.



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