Thursday, May 31, 2012

JQ Gets In Touch With Her Male Side

LADIES: QUIT SMELLIN' YOURSELVES!! Just because a man says 'Hi' to you or tells you look nice today...or likes a status/post of yours on a FaceBook does NOT mean he is trying to get with you. No need to look down your nose at a man when he passes you in the hallway at work and actually makes eye contact with you and actually speaks, respectfully to you! It, more than likely, doesn't mean anything more. He probably could even care less about your response as long as it's positive. Be grateful he was respectful enough to even speak! I was conversing a male friend the other day and he said he was snubbed by three (3) women when he spoke to them on three (3) different occasions in one (1) morning! Come on, ladies...It doesn't have to be that way! I bet the 3 aforementioned women are all single too...& the attitude of "I'm too sexy for your mere innocent salutations." is going to keep them that way. The song doesn't say "If you wanna speak/like my status/compliment me, you shoulda put a ring on it!" SHEESH!! You kind of females are making it hard on yourselves & the other sisters who don't possess that same 'bad'-itude. Don't no man want a woman with a rank-stank mood malfunction. Lips tooted on a regular, eyes ready to roll at any given moment. Men like to look into soft faces not hardened masks! Every man ain't your dog of an ex, loser of a father, or pervert of a supervisor! That wall you got up just might be warding off your Knight In Shining Armor. Once you get that chip off your shoulder, maybe you'll have room for a man there!! POW!!

Men Are Icky!! Not News, Really...Just Proof.

N the News 2day (Don't shoot the messenger!): Men offices are dirtier than women offices. There are more germs found in male-occupied offices than those where the majority of workers are women. A lot of the bacteria in male offices are found on keyboards and in their seats ranging from germs from oral & nasal cavities to those usually found in the digestive tract. O_o Ok. Ew. However, I do understand that this may not be NEWS to anyone. It just felt good to have proven facts to back up our theory that men are, indeed, pigs. LOL!! JUST KIDDING-AH!! Don't go gettin' all sensitive on me! I ain't say it, I just reported it! Now...go wash your hands before you start strokin' that don't know where your nasty little nubs have been...#Jus'nasty!

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

ALSO N the News 2day! Man Goes Cuckoo For Taco Bell!

Also N the News 2day: Apparently folks are really hungry this week and are going to any means to satisfy their appetite. A man in Huber Heights, Ohio got upset because an employee at a Taco Bell forgot to put one of his tacos in the bag. The man goes Doritos Locos Tacos & drives his truck thru the window of the restaurant! What the Chalupa Supreme?!? U mean to tell me a $1.69 taco was worth THOUSANDS of dollars in damages & a stint behind bars??? It's cool...He apparently likes Taco Bell...A LOT...Won't be much different than the county grub he'll have to get used to...& BONUS!!>> Maybe Big Ben in the pen can teach this dude how to REALLY make a run for the border! Yo quiero some time in jail! #DISAIN'TBURGERKINGBUT...HAVEITYOURWAY!! *shrugs*


N the News 2day: There was quite a few stories that caught my interest but let's start with the dumbest one first...2 inmates get charged with second degree felony armed robbery for beating up another inmate & taking his....wait for it....BBQ CORN CHIPS!!! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?! The 12 oz. bag of chips cost the inmate-turned-victim a whole $2.95 from the jail commissary. The cash bonds for the chip-jacking bandits is set at $5000 EACH! That's a high price to pay for some off-brand BBQ corn chips...I mean...I could see maybe some Fritos...but some Cactus Annie's...Who the Heckuva Dip is dat?!?!? These idiots with an apparent bad case of the munchies could get up to 8 yrs in prison and/or face a $15,000 fine! I wonder who booked 'em...C.H.I.P.S? LOL!! I'll bring the chips, Poncho's got the dips!!

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Ratchet (Basket)ball Wives Rundooown! (Season Finale)

Ok...First things first. Why ain't Kenya smelled or mentioned them fish yet? One word. Certifiable. NEXT! As much as Royce gets on my nerves sometimes, she is the only one on the show that seems to have a backbone. No matter if she's your friend or if you can beat her up, she does stand her ground & I respect that. Now...if she would just stand up to her stylist. LOL! HAHAHA!! Ya'll know that girl be trippin' with them outfits sometimes. Tammi, you, my dear, are waaaay too old to be really expecting all your friends to agree with your foolish ways. You mad cause Royce stood up for what was right? Well, if you choose not to be friends with someone over something like that, you wasn't really a true friend to begin with, so take your crunchy, corn-riddled toes and kick rocks, Tammi the Bull(y)! Some folks actually do grow up and mature...Which brings me to Evelyn & Jen. Um...Jen...way to come out of your hut...and still have nothing to say. Just own up to doing the interview(s) and stop hiding behind those dumb excuses! "I didn't know it was an interview...I was just having a conversation." SHUT UP!!! Sounds just like a lie a man would tell...Eric trained you well, hunh? Now, if he could just teach you how to duck. LOL! Anyhoo, at least you came out, sat down & got chewed out like a woman...Although it was by a 30+ chick with a high school mentality. Evelyn...just when I don't think you can't possibly disappoint me anymore, here you come with some ol' ratchet gossip MESS that don't nobody 'cept Jen's ex, Willy Lump Lump, care about. THAT was what you wanted to get off your chest?!? THAT was the big news?!? That Jen was having unprotected sex?!?!I mean that's nasty but...AND?!?! Go to Kenya's room a get a bigger fish to fry! Mmmkay! That 'news' was 'non-factor', Evil Ev! Just like this show will be...seeing that there's talk of it not coming back for another season.  Funny that after, what- 3 seasons of pure-d ratchetness, now, creator/producer Shaunie is all the sudden having a "revelation"...'Maybe this show is ratchet?????' Ya think? Don't be trying to straddle your high horse now that you gettin' all these business offers and thangs & having these thoughts about folks thinking, you, too, are a hoodrat! Shaunie is your name and exploitin' your hood sistas is your game. After all, ain't she bringing back Basketball Wives LA? I hope so...Not that I'm gonna like it...but I will watch it just to let ya'll know how much I don't like it! LOL!!! The things I do for the love of my readers! MUAH!!! Love you guys! Until next time, America...<in my Jerry Springer voice> P.S. Suzie is the real 'non-factor' trying to make herself stay 'relevant' by telling all...She gon' learn one day...Somebody's gonna end up fixing that lisp!

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Jack & Jill: REEEEE-MIIIIX!!!

A Nickel’s Worth
A short story written by Joy D. Quarmiley

When Jack reached the bottom of the hill, he dusted himself off and used his fingertips to assess the damage to his crown as he waited on his older sister, Jill, to come to a stop as she was rolling at a rapid speed down the knoll right behind him. Once she came  to a moaning halt at his feet, one of which were shoeless, he helped her up and picked some grass as well as a broken-stemmed dandelion out of her pigtails.
“So where’s the bucket?  ,” Jack inquired.
“Sss…Ow-wah!  , “Jill retorted as she checked out her skinned knee and a stinging scrape on her elbow. “What bucket? You were the one that was s’posed to be fetchin’ the water! Not me! So don’t be askin’ me where the bucket is! You left it! And you better go back up that hill n’ get it too or mama’ll skin your hide!”
“Aw, shucks! I thought sure you’d grab it! How’d you fall anyway? You’re such a klutz, Jill!” said Jack as he shook his pounding head and for a slight moment thought he might have a concussion…so he stopped and began rubbing his bruised cranium again.
Jill poked herself in the chest with conviction, “I’M a klutz?!? “, then pointing at her scowling brother with more conviction and one balled fist on her hip, as she saw her mother do many of times, she sneered, ”You’re the one that fell FIRST and then you tried to grab me to keep your balance! YOU pulled ME down! That makes YOU, my dear brother, the KING of Klutzes!” Each time Jill referred to herself or Jack she pointed with so much fervor that Jack thought for sure she’d sprain her finger.
Jack looked down with his brows furrowed, knowing full well that Jill was telling the truth and kicked his shoe that had fell off his foot and came to rest upside down next to him. “Well…”, as he sat down to put on his shoe, “Could you at least go back up there with me to get it? After I scooped up the water, s-somethin’ I saw in the bucket spooked me n’ that’s how come I fell. I-I don’t wanna go back up there by myself…” He looked up at his sister sheepishly with those puppy dog eyes, which always seemed to win his mother over whenever she was in her hardest of moods. To his dismay, Jill had a smug look on her freckled face as she retorted, “Hmmph! You called me a klutz and now you need me to protect your clumsy derrière? “ Jill took a slow, taunting stroll around her little brother as he attempted to tie his shoelace, got frustrated and instead tucked it into his scuffed shoe, all the while watching her out of the corner of his eye suspiciously. Then came the all-too-common question that Jack dreaded…
“What’s in it for me?”, she inquired.
Jack jumped up aggravated at his harrying sister for, yet again, taking advantage of him in another one of his weaker moments. “AWW C’MON, JILL! I DON’T HAVE NOTHIN’ ELSE TO GIVE YAH! You already got my jacks! I done give you my lunch quarter three days in a row last week! MY pet frog is now YOUR pet frog and he’s DEAD! I AIN’T GOT NOTHIN’ ELSE TO GIVE!” He threw his hands up in exasperation and slumped hopelessly on a nearby tree trunk. Jill amused, albeit not in the least bit sympathetic to her brother’s outburst put her foot on the same stump her brother sat on, fixed the strap on her Mary Jane and replied as she slyly glanced at her brother, “Sure you do…Ma gave you a nickel to come n’ fetch the pail of water, didn’t she?,” she dusted off the toe of her shoe, straightened up and smoothed out the front of her freshly grass-stained dressed, “THAT’S something. A nickel… for your hide… I’d say that’s quite a fair trade.” A toothy grin spread across her pie face that showed she was extremely proud of her quick-wit. Jack pouted, dug his heels into the ground, stood up, grunted and said through clenched teeth, “FINE-AH! You can have the durn nickel… AFTER we get back down the hill! ” Satisfied with her underhanded barter, Jill turned to face her pouting brother, curtsied, fanned her hand in front of her motioning for her brother to go first and said, “After you, Your Highness, KING of the Klutzes!” Jack glared at his snickering sibling as he began to saunter back up the hill.
As Jack came closer to the well, his anticipation grew. He could hear the grass crunching under his sister’s heavy steps and slowed down so she could catch up. As Jill got closer, she also began to tense up. Both children slowed to a stop just a couple of yards away from the well. They were now both standing side by side, silently staring at the well. Jill, finally grew impatient from just standing there, she turned to Jack, crossed her arms and asked, “Well, chicken-run…Where’s the bucket?” Jack timidly pointed toward the well, “I- I thought I left it on the ground…right there…next to the well.”
“Yeah, well OBVIOUSLY, you thought wrong! You better find mama’s bucket or it won’t be just your hide she’ll be skinnin’! No water AND no bucket…You might just wanna skip town, lil bro! Maybe a circus’ll take you in or somethin’…” Jill gave Jack a pat on the shoulder and sardonically shook her head as if she felt bad at the thought of her kid-brother out there in the cruel world on his own at the tender age of eight. Jack thought, “You’d have a better chance gettin’ picked up by a circus than me, bearded girl!” However, he dared not say it for fear of his heavy handed sister serving him an open-handed palm sandwich as she had done many a time before. Instead, he threw his mother’s annoying offspring an irritated glare and began to creep closer to the water source. Where could that bucket be? It couldn’t have grown legs and run off! Maybe the thing he saw in it took off with it! “Help me look,” Jack said to his sister. He went around one side of the well and Jill took the other side…They took very cautious, calculated steps around the water-wielding structure. Step…by…step…the two crept in silence, not sure what they would find on the other side of the well. They reached the opposite side…AND LO & BEHOLD! There was the bucket…sitting upright, as if waiting on the pair of them. Relieved, Jack took a step toward the bucket. The bucket shook violently! The children jumped and simultaneously hugged each other. Jill realized that she looked like every bit of a wimp to her younger brother, whom had grown respectfully fearful of her in his eight years. So she abruptly let go of her sibling, gave him an impatient shove and whispered, “Stop being a scaredy-cat! Get the bucket! It’s probably just a toad, silly!” All the while, she never took her eyes off of that bucket. Jack scowled and stood slightly on his tiptoes to see if he could see inside the bucket to no avail.  Jill gave him another push towards the pail. Jack used one arm to catch himself on the well’s wall and the other to swipe at his sister. “Don’t rush me,” he whispered emphatically, “Let me go at my own pace!” Jill crossed her arms and huffed, “At this pace, we’ll be late for school in the mornin’!” Jack rolled his eyes at his sister’s dramatic exaggeration and started to inch towards the bucket once again. The birds seemed to stop chirping, matter of fact, it seemed that all the sounds of nature ceased as he crept closer… and closer …and closer …until….Jack felt a vast thrust to his back and he went crashing into the bucket knocking it over! As the bucket tumbled to its side and rolled a little ways down the hill, a terrified bunny leaped out and bounded hastily toward some nearby woods.
Jack jumped up, pierced his lips and furrowed his brow so tough that it looked like every feature on his face came together with his pudgy, now flared nose… He held his balled fists straight as arrows down to his side and enraged he growled, “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, CONJILLA ELIZAH-ANN BERCHENSCHWIEZER?!? WHAT ON GOD’S BEAUTIFUL GREEN EARTH MAKES YOU SO MEAN?!?” Jill observed how perturbed her little brother was and decided it best to at least straighten up and stifle as many of her giggles as she could. “First…Don’t be callin’ me by my government name all out in the wilderness like that! And…second…(sniff)…you were taking so long…and I have to pee (snicker)…so I wanted you to come along… I was just trying to help, bubby…Honest… (giggle)…I didn’t know you’d fall so …so…ungracefully…,” Jill smiled the most innocent smile she could muster and then quickly offered, “Here… let me get the bucket so we can fetch this water and skedaddle on home…Dinner will be ready soon and mama has gotta be wonderin’ where we are!” She hurried over to the bucket, picked it up and emptied the little bit of water that was left in it. “We’ll get some fresh water.” Jill avoided her brother’s stewing eyes she walked past him to the well… “C’mon, Jack,” Jill stated, “It’s still your chore to fill the bucket.” Still breathing slightly heavy, with his white-knuckled fists still being held laboriously to his sides, Jack tried earnestly to bring his wrath under control. He made very calculated steps toward his smirking sister. He snatched the wooden bucket from her grip, placed the bucket on the ground and began to pump water into the bucket. As he pumped the water, Jill did what she did the first time they came to fetch the water…she leaned over to look at herself in the gradually climbing liquid. Simultaneously, Jack looked into the bucket to check the level of the water and with an astounded look on his face, he jumped back and kicked the bucket over, emptying all of the fresh pumped water out onto the grass. In the commotion, Jill stepped back into the spot where the spill transpired. She slipped in the wet grass, grabbed onto her cowering sibling and they both began to tumble head over heels back down the mound for the second time that dreary afternoon. This time, Jill reached the bottom first, dreadfully sore from the recurring descend. Jack’s shoe followed shortly with a thud to her head. Jack stopped thereafter in a heap right next to her. Groaning, Jill queried in an agonizing voice, “Wh…What did…you see…this…time?” Jack flipped over slowly to his back to face the sky…He looked over at his grimacing sister and uttered, “Y- …You mean you didn’t see it this time?!? It was sooo ugly. Grotesque even…It was the most HIDEOUS troll EVER!! I’ll have nightmares for weeks!”
“Hmmmm…,” pondered Jill still in pain, “That’s funny…I looked in the bucket and all I saw was my…,” Jill glared at her mother’s son and said through clenched teeth, “…REFLECTION!!” She reached over, punched Jack in the arm, got up, gave her tattered, stained dress a defiant tug and stormed off toward home. Jack massaged the assaulted spot on his bicep as he yelled to his retreating sister, “IF IT MAKES YA FEEL ANY BETTER, I REALLY DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS YOU THE FIRST TIME!” Grinning pompously, Jack folded his arms behind his head and smiled up at the dusk sky with a fulfilled, albeit labored sigh, “I got my nickel’s worth… and then some.”

Now: A Short Story

By Joy D. Quarmiley
            Wow. They all care….now. I’ve been wanting someone to care for so long. Look at ‘em…Scurrying around down there. I’m a big deal…now. Hear that world?!? I’M A HUGE FREAKIN’ DEAL NOW!!! I matter…now…But now…You know what…Now…I don’t want to matter. Do I? I mean…Why should I at this point? Let me take a moment to think…to think back…when I wanted to be noticed…to matter.
            I grew up with nothing. Nothing is an understatement…well, it may be an overstatement for some. I know many were just as, if not more, poor than me and my family – if ‘family’ is what you want to call it – but I couldn’t imagine having less than what we had. I grew up in little old Springfield, Ohio, in the Robinson Drive Projects. We, my big brother, Jermaine and my little sister, Rekita (Kita) were made fun of daily for our attire…or lack thereof, and our smell. I always had to wear Jermaine’s old, beat up, run down clothes and shoes, which my mama got from second-hand stores. I used to think I really had it bad having to wear his double-handed-down hand-me-downs, but my kid sister had it worse. She had to wear my triple-handed down hand-me-downs and she was a girl. Sometimes the clothes and shoes were too big for her, but mama would just stuff the shoes with toilet paper and tuck and fold the clothes til they ‘fit’.  As if the clothes weren’t bad enough, we often smelled like mildew because, though we had a washer, we didn’t always have detergent, so we just washed them in water…sometimes, if the gas was on, it would be hot…Most of the time it wasn’t. Then, we didn’t have a dryer and my mama would sometimes forget to hang our clothes after washing them, hence the stench of mildew. When we didn’t reek of mildew, we smelled of cigarette smoke and cat urine…sometimes a combination of all three.
I remember Kita crying about her clothes when she got old enough to care…which was in middle school some time. She begged mama to buy her some new digs. “Even from the second hand store, Mommy! I just can’t wear these boy clothes no more! ” she cried. Mama didn’t care though. She was way more pissed about Kita’s ‘ungratefulness’ than sympathetic. That little outburst caused my sister to be given a breath-taking blow to the chest that day…which was pretty light compared to some of the other beatings we received throughout the years.
Kita’s saving grace was a lady that moved in next door and noticed how Kita dressed. Being that she had a daughter about Kita’s size, she would give Kita clothes her daughter grew out of or didn’t want. Mama didn’t like it, but she was always careful not to burn bridges with those who could be of use to her at some point in time, and that lady had a car, so she became mama’s private taxi. She allowed Kita to keep the clothes, though she would sometimes burn cigarette holes in anything that my sister seemed to take a real liking to, just to let Kita know that she was still in control. My sister learned quick to hide her excitement whenever the neighbor lady gave her anything really nice.
My mama didn’t like any of us much…but her dislike for my sister was on a whole other level. I didn’t know why for a long time, but it later came out that my ‘bum daddy’- as my mama so wretchedly called him- had a baby on her. The mother of that child died in a tragic car accident and my mama, for the undying love of my father, took ‘that baby’ in. We didn’t know nothing about ‘that baby’ til Daddy brought her home after the accident. Rekita was ‘that baby’. Mama referred to her as that whenever her and my dad got into arguments and my mama felt that throwing ‘that baby’ up in my daddy’s face gave her leverage. Well…Kita was not really a baby…She was three when she officially joined our family…again, if ‘family’ is what you want to call it. I think she would’ve stayed a secret had her mama not died. Probably would’ve been better off being a secret.
My father left on Kita’s fourth birthday. Went to pick up the cake and never came back. Should’ve known something was up…Ain’t none of us ever got no cake for our birthdays before then…or after. Kita and I are one year apart so I was five when he left, but I still remember my daddy and everything thing about him. Things were so much better when he was there…before my mama found out about ‘that baby’. She just wouldn’t stay out of his face and when she was drunk, which was almost all the time, the arguing turned violent. She stabbed my daddy three times in 6 months. I figured he couldn’t take the fighting no more – couldn’t take the risk of that bi- woman killing him, so he left. I was mad at him for a while, but later I understood. If I could’ve left, I would’ve. That’s about the time that I really started disliking my mother.
     Mama stopped drinking so much when I was in the fifth grade but that was only because she traded one habit for another. Her addiction to crack cocaine revealed itself that year on Easter Sunday. My mama took the ham the pantry gave us & just disappeared. We ate the little bit of candy that came in our baskets from Salvation Army for dinner that night. Ate it before the roaches claimed it like they did all the food that wasn’t in cans. We wouldn’t have devoured our candy that first night if we knew that would be our last meal for three days. That’s when mama decided to come home. That was the first, of many, crack binges.

Mama favored my older brother the most. He was a spitting image of my father. They had a love/hate relationship…like her and my daddy. She really loved him, sometimes inappropriately, when she was high. Then on the rare occasions where she was sober she was disgusted by the sight of him. Jermaine had an athletic build and could’ve been a good football player. He won all of the games when we played street football with the other neighborhood kids…when they would play with us. Jermaine didn’t get teased once he got into middle school. He left Grayhill Elementary a tall, scrawny kid and showed up after the summer to Clark Middle School as “Maine”, the player and the thug. He had a confidence that seemed to develop overnight. Being his brother didn’t help me out none. He would give me ‘pep’ talks about how to handle my bullies in the privacy of our home, but he didn’t really acknowledge me much in public. It was cool though…I understood…He had a reputation to uphold- as he reminded me in each and every one of our ‘pep’ talks.
Jermaine was killed when he was 18. He dropped out of high school in his sophomore year and with nothing else to do with his free time, he started robbing folks. One of his dope boy victims saw him talking to a girl outside her house. He ran up on my brother and shot him. That was when I really became a non-factor in life. My mama would say things directed at me, but look through me…as if I wasn’t there. When she asked me to do something and I didn’t do it to her standards, it was “Your brother” this and “Your brother” that. She even told me a few times, “It shoulda been you. You ain’t good for nothin’!” Didn’t matter how many times she told me that…the first time broke me.
When my brother died, my mother became evil. I mean, she was no angel before, but after Jermaine was killed she focused all of her heartlessness on me and my sister. I don’t care to go into detail, but I will say that’s when the dislike I had for her changed to hate. At times, I wished she would die from one of her numerous overdoses. My sister despised her too…she told me a few times. I think the only thing that kept Kita from killing my mother was her undying hope for a good future. I ain’t never had much hope. I don’t even know how Kita kept hers alive in that hope-stifling house. I envied that about her. I envy her now. She had the courage to walk away and never look back. My mama had some kind of hold on me. I guess I felt if I stayed, she would change and love me. I was an idiot for even having hope for that.
She despised Kita for being an everyday reminder of my father’s infidelity and she showed it. Not just by hitting on her or making her clean the house from top to bottom all the time, but sometimes mama let our ‘uncles’ that she would bring home from local bars have sex with Kita. Kita was about seven when that started happening. Mama would get paid for it and she, too, would 'serve' these men. That’s how mama fed her habits. Prostituting herself and my half sister…and me…but I don’t want to talk about that. That lasted til Kita was thirteen. She started her period and didn’t know. One of the tricks seen it and freaked out. My sister got beat bad that night for messing up my mama’s money with her ‘triflin’ ass’- mama’s words - not mine. That period was kind of really like a period, you know, at the end of a sentence because it marked the end of those days of her being pimped out by my mother. My mama was an addict but she wasn’t stupid. She knew that if my sister ended up pregnant, her dirty little secrets might rear their ugly heads and land her in jail for a long time. She kept whoring, kept pimping me but left my sister out of it. I wanted a period. 
     She didn’t like me because I was just the middle child…least that’s what I figured. Nothing special about me. I got good grades for awhile til I realized nobody cared. Kita’s teachers seemed to care for her a lot and she always got good grades, did so through high school and ended up getting a scholarship to a good university out North somewhere. I got a job right out of high school working at a tire shop. I didn’t leave my mama’s house though. I thought Kita needed me…so I stuck around…only for her to up and leave a month or so after she graduated. I should’ve known she wasn’t coming back by the way she wouldn’t…or couldn’t look at me when she and her friend packed up all her belongings into that Chevy. She hugged me though. Held onto me for a very long time. I should’ve taken that as a hint too. We had never embraced like that. That was her way of saying “Goodbye forever.” I guess. I wanted to tell her I was proud of her, but I couldn’t get the words past the lump in my throat. As the Chevy made its way down the street and around the corner, I watched it…watched it til I couldn’t see it no more. When I turned around, mama was standing in the doorway smoking a cigarette, with a scowl on her face…She mumbled, “Good riddens, homewreckin’ whore,” flicked the butt of her Newport into the unkempt flowerbed, turned and slammed the door. I wish I would’ve told Kita I was proud of her. I wish I would’ve told her I loved her. Maybe that would have made her feel valid. Maybe she would’ve validated my life by keeping in touch. Some of the most important things are left unsaid…and that’s a shame. She put us on a shelf in her past and never so much as came by to dust that shelf off. She was a runner too…just like our father.
Mama got sick not long after Kita left. She had gotten HIV from one of her many partners. Of course, she wasn’t big on her health being that she was a crackhead so by the time she ended up in the emergency room due to a bout with what we thought was the flu, she had full-blown AIDS. Once again, I felt obligated to stick around and ignore my needs and wants. I nursed my mother for a year and a half until she died...finally. You would think that her illness would’ve made her nicer. You would’ve thought she would desire to ‘make things right’ before she met her demise. Not my mother…She stayed true to form up until she took her last miserable breath. She died with her eyes open…staring at me…dark and cold. I tried to give her credit…I wanted to think her wickedness was drug and alcohol induced. She disappointed me. Her soul was evil and she made sure I was damaged real good before she left this Earth. I didn’t shed a tear.
I had a few failed relationships. I didn’t respect women…all because I hated my mother. I did get seriously involved with a young woman prior to mama’s death. She was beautiful and intelligent. She reminded me a little of my estranged sister. I was envious of her… my girl…What I hated about her, I loved about her at the same time. I was blinded by jealousy, so I brought her down to my level. Killed her confidence with my words and my heavy fists. Her beauty deteriorated behind my abuse. I even started her on heroin…that wasn’t meant to sound prideful…but it is what it is. That was my drug of choice. Started using after Kita left to cope with mama. Heroin became my friend and me and my friend had threesomes with my girl.
She’s dead now. My girl. Died about 3 hours ago in our apartment during one of our threesomes. Overdose. What would never claim my mama’s wretched life all those years that she used, took the life of the only one that ever made me almost feel like I mattered- within a year. Maybe I should’ve introduced mama to heroin. Anyway…she’s still there. Laying cold in our apartment. They’ll find her. She deserves a proper burial. She mattered to a lot of people. I made sure she distanced herself from those people during our relationship though. I hate myself for that. But that’s who life molded me to be. A hateful, unloved nobody. Some get dealt a good hand in life, but for some of us the cards don’t even get taken out of the box. We start with nothing and end with nothing. I’m not feeling sorry for myself neither…I’m just saying- it is what it is. Hey…Thanks for listening…All this thinking and for once I’m clear on what I should do. For once, I’m going to put what I want first. It’s my turn now…It’s my turn! Thinking about myself… since no one else is… or was… until now… Now. Now - when it’s too late.

N the News 2day; May 23, 2012

'Titanic' Goes From PG-13 To KO-10(Knock Out)

Man beats the brakes off 10 year old in the movies. The man was trying to enjoy 'Titanic' in 3D with his girlfriend and a couple of people behind him were being rude...talking loud, throwing popcorn and such...So after a few times of asking them to be quiet, the man SNAPS! He climbs over the theater seat and punches the kid, who he claims thought was a grown man. The child suffered a bloody nose and lost a tooth. Ok....Mmmm...well...I can say, I've been there before...Wanted to do that PLENTY OF TIMES!!! This dude shouldn't get a charge, he should get a cape because he's many a movie-goer's hero! Many may say he crossed the line, but there's nothing more annoying than paying $10.50 for a movie and not getting to enjoy it because folks don't know good movie theater etiquette! Yes, it's too bad the victim in this case was a would say, "LESSON LEARNED!" And I hope he has the sense to pass the lesson on to his friends and his children!  It was also kind of ironic that the movie was 'Titanic' cause no matter how justified the assailant thought he was, he is still going DOWN!!Keep the violence on the screen, sir! #ButThankYou,FromPreviouslyAnnoyedMoviePatrons

J-Quizzle Gives the Bizzle: Basket(case)ball Wives Rundoooown

J-Quizzle Gives the Bizzle: Basket(case)ball Wives Rundoooown: Ratchet (Basket)ball Wives Rundooooown: I TOLD ya'll Kenya was crazy enough to believe that fish smell was normal!! She was in that bungalow...

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Basket(case)ball Wives Rundoooown

Ratchet (Basket)ball Wives Rundooooown: I TOLD ya'll Kenya was crazy enough to believe that fish smell was normal!! She was in that bungalow basking like Long John Silver in the aroma of rotten Captain D funk & it never ran across her jumbled mind, "Somethin's a lil fishy in here...." She's nuts, man! Anybody in their right mind woulda known something wasn't right once they stepped out of their hut & realized it fishier IN the hut than OUTSIDE with the ocean!!! DURRH!! & if looks could kill....Honeeeyyyy....Shaunie & Evelyn woulda been pushin' up daisies on that island right now...That look & that shakin' had Evelyn apologizin' even...See? That's all u gotta do is show 'crazy' a little 'certifiably insane' & 'crazy' will make like Keisha & retreat! LOL!! Ya'll know I had to give a shout out to ol' Keisha! She took 'retreat' literally, didn't she? HAAA! Tammi wanna 'talk' now...mmhmmm...guilt is a mug! We'll see how that works out...*side eye* Jennifer is the definition of bourgeoisie, man! Look like with her self-proclaimed high society social status, she wouldn't have worn that thu (yes, THU) scarf with that maxi dress...But then again, her bestie, Kenya, was wearin' those church sandals with her swim know what they say about cuckoo birds of a feather...LOL!! Jen hi-tailed it to her room 2 sentences into the convo with Ev...She was definitely in fear for her face...The physical one & the 2nd one that she's grown since last season...I thought she was gonna take off runnin' once she realized Evelyn was following her...Keisha would've. Ok...Lemme leave Keisha her backbone did. Evelyn knows Jen is "lawyered up" & that's the reason she ain't hit her yet. But, really...Ev just needs to stop trying to play hard & just admit that she's HURT!! You ain't cryin' just cause you're frustrated or mad! That was your FRIEND for 12 years, your feelings are hurt & it's ok to admit that. If we would just say how we REALLY felt sometimes instead of trying to save face, we could save so many relationships that we actually care about. Anyhoo...I ain't mean to get all Dr. Phil on ya'll but it's the! Alright...well...I guess that aboooout covers it...Oh...& Royce will be back next week...Aren't ya'll excited?!? neither...HOLLA!!!

Monday, May 21, 2012

Embarrassing My Kids: My Parental Right

Went to pick up my daughter Friday night about 11:30 from the school because they just came from their 8th grade trip to D.C. When I pull up, all of the other parents are standing outside their cars to welcome their children home...So, of course, I now feel obligated to get out the car...I, like some of the other parents, am in very presentable pjs...Nothin's hangin or nothin'...Matter of fact, if it weren't for the pink satin bow on the neckline & the "My Kids ♥ Me!" sprawled across the front, mine could've passed for regular I thought...So I'm standing beside my car as the buses pull up & my phone rings...
Me: "Hello?" 
My daughter: "Get. In. The. Car....U. Look. Weird."
 I looked up to see about a dozen kids on the bus smiling at me & my daughter on her phone with this look of bewilderment on her face. 
I said,"I was just tryna be a good parent!", hung up the phone, turned towards the door to my car(back to the bus), plucked my wedgie & got in...That'll show 'er...

Pringle Problems

Pros to Pringles:
1. They always seem to stay fresh because of the innovative can/lid.
2. They're not greasy.
3. Most of the chips are whole.
4. They're that cool shape so you can lay it right on your tongue & savor the flavor, prior to chomping down on it's crispy goodness.

1. It's in that durn innovative can & when I get down a ways, my hand gets stuck preventing me from enjoying 1-4, then I have to turn it over & because of that durn cool shape too many tend to slide out & they hit the floor or table breaking them into pieces so they ain't whole no more.... & THEY'RE NOT GREASY!! I shouldn't have to work this hard for a chip!!! #GIMMEACONVENIENTBAGOFGREASYLAY'S!

Micro-Manage Much?

Sometimes I feel like somebody's waaatchin' meeee...

Hey, Supervisors/Managers- Are you micro-managing your employees??? Well...STOP THAT!! I know there are some employees that slack & they may need to be monitored closer than others, but seriously, to watch all of your employees' every move is not only unnecessary but it is also time-consuming & time-wasting! There is sooo much that YOU as a supervisor could get done if you're not timing all of your employees' breaks, phone between breathes! If you are a micro-manager, you may be in danger of causing your faithful workers to fall into what's called (cause I just called it this) "The Teenage Rebel Syndrome" (TTRS). This is just like when a parent is too hard/restrictive on their kid & the otherwise trustworthy kid starts sneaking around because they feel like they're being forced to in order to have any freedom. Happy employees are more productive & honest. If you're not always down their throat & you treat them like adults, they'll want to do a good job for you because they respect you & want to keep YOU happy! So just chill! Sit back & relax! Choose your battles wisely! Reprimand as needed & not just when you brought your baggage to work and want to go on a Power Trip! The biggest point to remember: Everyone has NOT been a supervisor/manager, but we've ALL been employees! ***Don't forget from whenst you came!***

Friday, May 18, 2012

Without the Creamy Crack, My Hair is WACK!

Yeeesss! I am one of those who are addicted to the Creamy Crack that we all know as the 'Relaxer'! And I am just fiiiiine with that! I don't wanna quit! I'm on that Oil Sheen, baby! WINNING! We read so many blogs on why natural, chemical-free hair is better for Black women...Well, not for me, honey! I'm standing for all those whose hair is chemical-dependent...those of you who know you are...aaand those of you who don't. Some naturals are and others are! Garret Augustus Morgan, Sr., recognized that some of our hair was looking more than natural was lookin' downright unnaturally tense!! Hence, his glorious invention of the RELAXER! When your stuff is all stressed out beyond manageable- RELAX IT, GIRL! No matter how much you relax your hair your Black roots are still going to be there! I'm Black & I'm proud, but I'm also Soft & Beautiful...Dark & Lovely, child! The closest I've come to going natural is getting kinky twists with synthetic hair! Hey Starburst, how's that for a walking contradiction? LOL! I have no desire to go natural, but I commend all that are brave enough to endure 'the big chop' & then the 'meantime/in-between time growing it back' process...I, myself, prefer to be fried, dyed & laid to the side! Okaaaay!(2 snaps in a 'Z' formation, hesitation, neck rotation- & whipping my hair back & forth...& one more snap for good measure ;o)

The Ultimate Sacrifice

Many of us, as parents, live our life investing in our children...God used His child to invest in us. If someone told you that you would have to raise your child, then after 33 yrs, your child will have to give his/her life for a world of people, most of which would despise him/her...Would you be able to do it? #TheUltimateSacrifice
John 3:16- For God so loved the world, that He gave His ONLY begotten Son that whosoever believe in Him shall not perish but shall have everlasting life.

Change Has to Begin Somewhere

Many are talking about the Trayvon Martin case & saying,"People BEEN getting killed. People are killed every day! Why are we wanting to take a stand now?!?" This is sad, but true. People have been getting killed. Mess like this does happen on a daily. HOWEVER- some of the circumstances in this case are different...the biggest one being that the very people that we trust to keep us safe are protecting the guilty. This may not be 'new' either, but there comes a point when too much is too much. They didn't start marching & protesting when the first Black was hung by the KKK...It took a small group of people to say "ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!!" If people want to 'start' taking a stand NOW, what's wrong with that? At least they STARTED taking a stand. A 'movement' has to begin somewhere! Sometimes we are our own worst enemy...Why DISCOURAGE positive change? Who cares WHEN it takes place as long as IT TAKES PLACE! Better NOW than NEVER!! If you don't want to take part in it...YOU don't want to wear a hoodie...So be it...It's your choice...Don't try to hold back those who do...Those who do, we need to REMAIN positive, peaceful & faithful...No matter what happens, GOD IS STILL ON THE THRONE!