Mitzi Moments

Category: why we as a people can’t get ahead

‘n’ for nice try…

By on July 31, 2009 in end of days, it takes a village, team obama, why we as a people can't get ahead

Wow, its a hard week for the Obamas, huh?


First Barack tries to hold his man ‘Skip’ down and winds up having to suck salt and have a couple of brews with a man that 9 times outta 10 probably didn’t even vote for him.  And now, it turns out that the soil in Michelle’s beautiful vegetable garden was fertilized by straight up sewage sludge.  Mmm-hmm… READ: every and anything you toss/ flush/ washes down our sewer drains.  

Just let me know when your stomach settles… ’cause the visual on that is a bit much.

Apparently, that damn Clinton administration used a sludge-based product to fertilize the garden back in the 1990s and the effects are STILL lingering.  So when the National Park Service recently tested the soil beneath the garden to see if the vegetables/ fruit could quality for organic certification, it discovered elevated levels of lead averaging 93 parts per million. Mind you, the EPA recommends that you do not even try to grow food in any soil that tests at 100ppm or higher. 

So um yeah, about feeding all the innocent kids in America a salad?  Yeah,  survey says, no thank you.

one call I won’t accept…

By 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 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.

me,myself and i…

By on July 6, 2009 in cuteness kills, Mitzi- all day every day, pocket full of dirty tissue, why we as a people can't get ahead

So after debating back and forth for some time, a good friend of mine (who shall forever remain nameless) got this AMAZING but EXTREME haircut. Mind you, I’m not saying she is the only person in the whole world with the particular style but it’s def the first in her immediate circle of friends.  Which is always kinda hot, right?


Well don’t you know, not even a week and a half later one of her homegirls called her FROM the chair in the local beauty salon asking/telling her that she wanted the exact same hairstyle too (cause at the point that you’re i the chair, you’re so not asking). And wait on it… could my friend explain to her stylist how the cut was done??

Err-um, what in the-hand-rocks-the cradle-hell?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear folks on the whole “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” party line. BUT lemme tell you something… forreal, foreal? When it comes to MOST women (cause there are always the A-list celeb exceptions) that mantra does NOT, I repeat DOES NOT apply to three things: hair, handbag or shoes. Straight. Up.

And don’t try me on it. We are too grown.  I do not want to be surrounded by a circle of clones. Go get your own style, dammit. I can barely cobble mine together without you encroaching on my ish!

Survey says, LAME.

wrong on so many levels…

By 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.

still waiting for usher to perform…

By on June 29, 2009 in desperate cry for help, end of days, honorary white woman, made for the maury show, why we as a people can't get ahead

I’d be wrong for not posting about the hot ass mess that was the BET Awards, wouldnt I?   


‘Cause I’d really rather not talk about the tomfoolery that snatched almost four hours of my life away and left me utterly depressed. On some- so this is what we’ve been reduced to, huh?

And it’s not even so much the whole T-Pain accepting his award with a red plastic cup in hand, ya girl Beyonce selfishly choosing to sing a lackluster Ave Maria instead of a MJ song when she’s probably one of only 4 people in the entire place that could’ve done it justice, Zoe Saladano’s no home-training having self announcing to the world that veteran actress/Star Trek icon Nichelle Nichols was delayed the show up because she was in the bathroom TWICE or even Ving Rhames violent crackhead-esque outburst.
 
Naw, it was the subtle screw-ups that made my nerves bad. 

Like, this many years in the game and your tech guys still can’t get the sound system situation together? Err-um, why in the world weren’t the nominees in the various categories named? Who the hell didn’t realize that Don Cornelius is a thousand years old and anticipate his obvious need for the size of letters on the telepromter to be EXTRA, EXTRA LARGE? And most disturbing- Where was the Michael jackson bio?? All the energy put into Jaime’s wardrobe changes and nobody realized that there wasn’t a complete career bio/ montage prepared? Sigh.  

Jesus take the wheel, ’cause I. Can’t.

sure hope he had his drawers on…

By on June 24, 2009 in honorary white woman, it takes a village, made for the maury show, tagging out, why we as a people can't get ahead

In most cases, there’s nothing funny about police brutality.  Like, at all. But you know my motto- every day is a new opportunity to take it to the next level. Peep game:



Apparently, good ole Carl (who mind you, was recently voted District Officer of The Year) got wind of the fact that his estranged wife was screwing around at the crib with another man.  So naturally, as soon as he got off duty he headed over to ‘get things straight’. 

When he arrived on the scene, I guess homegirl was trying to be on some slick shit and refused to answer the door. (Can’t you hear her now- “Just ignore all that banging baby.  I told you, me and him not together no more.”)

Well don’t you know homeboy smashed a window, stormed in and charged up to the bedroom? 

Once in the bedroom, crazy ass Carl (you like how he went from good ole Carl to the crazy ass, right?) found the freaking Police Chief HIDING out in the closet and proceed to pistol whip and beat FIRE out of that ass.

DAYUM son. Can you say anger management issues? WTF??  I’m gonna need the Chicago Police force to turn off the R.Kelly and pull it together.  Not now, but RIGHT  NOW.

another cdc nightmare…

By on June 16, 2009 in desperate cry for help, it takes a village, why we as a people can't get ahead

Oh Jesus, here we go… 


Even if the weather isn’t necessarily cooperating with those of us in the tri-state area, summertime is here party people.  Wanna know how I know?

‘Cause the New York Times just published it’s annual ‘please-don’t-poop-in-the-pool’ article.  You know, the one where they report on the rising number of people swimming in NYC’s public pools that become infected with a nasty intestinal parasite that’s found in feces? 
Uh-huh,  feel free to vomit in your mouth right about now.

For those that need more details: Cryptosporidium is what they call it. The only way to become infected is through ingestion. And the reason that so many people become ill is because that bad boy can survive as  long as 10 days- EVEN IN CHLORINATED WATER. 

Talking about, “We want people to swim but be healthy about it.” Uh yeah, no thanks. 

Jesus be the cold water in my shower until I arrive at a beach far, far away…

reminds me of my honey days…

By on June 15, 2009 in desperate cry for help, i die, pocket full of dirty tissue, why we as a people can't get ahead

It’s been a long while since I’ve come across a blog that I kid you not, makes me want to pee my pants. You know the ones that are so good you can’t help but stop whatever you were supposed to be doing (like work) read every single, solitary entry from wherever it starts until the very end? 

But then, lo and behold- StopnReflect.com
There are no words for the tomfoolery that is this website dedicated to the fashion tragedies that occur New York City.  I implore each and everyone to take a minute and check it out.  
Oh and by the way, you now owe me a good laugh.

not even the CL pumps can save her…

By on June 11, 2009 in desperate cry for help, going to hell in a handbasket, it ain't easy, supermarket dreams on a bodega budget, tapped out, the internet is the devil, why we as a people can't get ahead

Here’s the thing, I’m all for fashion forwardness.  I love seeing new trends emerge (so about to cop an adorable one-piece pantsuits) and disappear (baby doll dress be damned).  

Even if good old fashioned commonsense/ awareness of my body shape won’t necessarily allow me to get involved (thigh high boots), more power to those constantly push the envelope.  
With that said, this morning I have serious beef with Rihanna.
What the in the unholy my-stylist-had-the-night-off HELL was she doing prancing around NYC in a damn over-sized cardigan like it’s a sweater dress?? 
Shit is a certified wreck.  Oh and PS, the random bustier tossed up under there doesn’t make it any better. At. All. Cause really, it just looks like  ya girl put on the pretty drawers, the sweater and said bump wearing pants/shorts/anything to properly cover her butt.
Listen, I know the poor thing done been through some shit recently but that’s simply no reason to hit the pavement assed-out and half-naked.  Uh-uh, no maam.  Not today, not tomorrow, not even on a dare.
But the FORREAL, FORREAL reason that I’m mad at Rih-Rih?  For every time her tall and skinny behind tries to pull something crazy like this off.  There’s a confused girl with a TOTALLY Different shape following her lead…  AND FAILING MISERABLY.  
Exhibit A: Homegirl following right behind her in the shiny shirt, leather boots and a crazy looking cardigan vest of her own. Need I say more?
Jesus be a fill-length mirror. Light a candle ya’ll…

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