Five For Friday: Just Five Things That Are Things

Hey! I'm back! Did you miss me? I missed you so much I followed you today.....

**Before I get into today's foolishness, I just want to thank everybody who reached out to a sister with comments, e-mails, phone calls, prayers, etc. I mean, y'all COULDA sent me some diamond jewelery or some new sneakers or somethin', but I appreciate and love y'all all the same. I have read and heard your words and I will be taking some advice from it. Thank you for letting me get that offa my chest. Thank you, thank you kindly.**

Remember when I said I wanted to have an argument with a fella using the words to "Looking At The Front Door" by Main Source? I have decided I would also want to invoke the spirit of Oran "Juice" Jones' seminal "Walking In The Rain" in to my life mosaic. While I really don't want to get cheated on, I feel that there would be other appropriate times to drop these gems:

-"That's right, now close your mouth. 'Cause you cold busted."

-"You know my first impulse was to run up on you. And do a Rambo. I was about to jam you and flat blast both of you. But I didn't wanna mess up this thirt-seven hundred dollar lynx coat." (I don't have a gun, nor do I have a 'thirt-seven hundred dollar' coat, but you never know what the future might hold).

-"I gave you things you couldn't even pronounce!" (Say, maybe he never had hummus before me, or baklava or Kwanzaa.)"But now I can't give you nothing but advice."

-"Cause you're still young, yeah, you're young. And you're gonna find somebody like me one of these days. Until then, you know what you gotta do? You gotta get on outta here.....cause you dismissed"! (I do be liking the young boys. Can't you see me and Chris Brown having this conversation?)

-"That's right, Silly rabbit, tricks are made for kids, don't you know that. You without me is like corn flakes without the milk! This is my world. You're just a squirrel trying to get a nut! Now get on outta here. Scat!"

Truer words have never been spoken.

Ok-k-k. Five For Friday this week has no theme. Let's just do it.

Five For Friday: Five Things That Are Things:

1) and 2) See above-

What? That shit took time to write, I can't be blogging all day. I NEED this job.


3) and 4) Oh, Mariah

This is my sophisticated classy look! Giggle!

I hate Mariah Carey. She's beautiful and talented and she thinks she's 12 years old.She has the greatest voice of her generation, but she wants very badly to be the next Ciara. Just that thought alone is enough to make my brain slowly disintegrate. Eschewing the notion of hiring a stylist, she chooses to dress like a Long Island mafioso's 19-year- old biracial girlfriend, who will slip up and say "nigger" in front of her and then pat her cheeks and say "Not you, sweetie. Yur'a good girl. Pass the garlic, will youse?"

Him and Mariah go back like babies and pacifiers.

Mariah will wear a size 4 mini dress, even when she gets up to a "whopping" size 6. She is at LEAST 40 years old and she made a song with T-Pain, talking about "We gots to migrate". No, bitch, you gots to mature and NOW. Damn near 50, talking about glitter and charm bracelets and rainbows and shit.

This is an actual interior shot from Mrs. Carey-Cannon's brain.

5) Have A GOOD Weekend!

I don't care if McDonald's is the devil. I love this commercial.

How low can YOU go? All the way to the flo'? Can you take it to the top?
Sister Toldja

Don't Stop Now...

Just A Little Bit...

A Sad, Sad Woman

So, let me keep it 100 with y'all. I have had an INCREDIBLY hard time cranking out this blog lately. Why? Because I am low-key kinda miserable right now.

First of all, I hate the fuck out of my job. I hate it so much that at three o'clock, I'm not thinking "Okay, I'm out in three more hours", but instead I am already sad about having to come back the next morning! This can't be life! Seriously, I have NO interest in education or even working in the community at this point in my life. It has gotten to the point where I am sometimes short with the students, because I am just so unhappy here. I love these kids to death and I want only the best for them....and I am not it.

I don't even want to mention how many hours I am here a day, how much time I spend commuting and how I have NOTHING to show for it. Seriously, if I am gonna be this broke, I need to be doing something that I really enjoy. Yet, I can't even really think of ANYTHING that I want to do badly. I am applying for jobs left and right, but I have yet to really come up on something that I burn to do.

And, as usual, I still ain't got no man. I have starved off/worked out/tortured away about 25 pounds, but my dream man has yet to come sweep me offa my feet. Now, I didn't expect that to happen immediately. Give me about two more dress size down. THEN it will happen, LOL. No, but seriously...I am really sick of not dating anyone worthwhile. I need to get out more, but it's hard. Like, where DO people meet? Fuck.

I am approaching the one year anniversary of being raped. That has been on my mind a lot lately. There is a man in my life who I can't shake. I wonder where he is sometimes. Has he done it to someone else? Does he ever think about me? Did he feel bad afterwards? Was it supposed to be just a robbery? When I am in DC, I can't help but wonder if he's seen me in a mall, in the club, on the street. It happened in my car, you know. The same car I have to ride in each and every day. No wonder I hate that fucking thing! They shoulda bought me a new car afterwards. Somebody should've. In fact, all rape victims should get a car or a trip or a makeover. An Oprah hug, some money, something. There needs to be a "Make A Wish Foundation" for rape victims. Buy me something! Shit. A spa day! A rape scholarship! A shopping spree!


It's like belonging to a sorority that you didn't ask to pledge. A sisterhood of far too many. In fact, I almost wish there were some letters I can toss on a jacket so people would know. So I don't have to explain why I may get unreasonably scared from time to time, or why out of nowhere, I may feel completely unwilling to perform a particular sex act, or why I just look really upset for no apparent reason. Except for I can't wear it on a shirt, because then someone may tell my mother, who doesn't know about it. If ever I realized that I was grown before, making the choice to keep quiet about the single worst thing that ever happened to me with the one person I usually rely one was the "a-ha" moment. My sisters and father knew, but Dad and I agreed that my mother couldn't handle something like that, especially with me being so far away.

So, Mom, if you are reading this right know.....surprise. And that's what the fuck you get for lying and telling me you wouldn't ever read this.

I don't regret not telling her, but it has been so hard because I feel like for all the selfish things I have done in my life, this was the one incident that should have entitled me to some selfish behavior. But it led me to do just the opposite. I only took two days off from work (the first two days, actually).

And...drop a bomb on this...for everyone who ever said I was unfairly hard on Black men, did you know that I told my friends, family AND the police that the rapist was White? HA! Do you really think there was a White rapist running around ghetto ass Marlow Heights (or wherever it happened....I actually managed to put a lot of key details out of my head)? Nope. It was none but one of my sorry-ass brothers. Surprise. I just knew that I didn't want to come back to MD for a trial and that if I said he was White, that wouldn't happen. Plus, the idea of going to a police line-up trying to identify someone who had on a ski-mask just sounded like a miserable waste of time.

I think, no, I KNOW, that part of my fervor to find a man has correlated with being raped. Don't get me wrong, I always want to be dating somebody. I hate playing the field. But I feel, for some reason, that having a man around will make me feel....un-raped? Protected? Like, just the idea of having someone to put his arms around me and release these feelings is so appealing. I know it's more suitable for a therapist, but I don't want a therapist. I want a man. I want to believe that I am gonna get more from a brother than hurt feelings, disrespect or sexually assaulted. In actuallity, I don't really feel like I would/should discuss this issue with a man, 'cause then I'd be 'damaged goods'. A woman with too many issues. We can't rely on Black men to respect us and treat us as humans. How the hell am I gonna find one who would accept me AND my problems? I'd be more likely to train a squirrel to do the Harlem Shake.


Well, I've already said too much. Have a good day. Back to my usually entertaining program tomorrow. I just needed to get this out before I killed someone.

Don't Stop Now...

Just A Little Bit...

Wild And Out

Hey, how you been? Long time no hear from,right? I have been sleepy, drunk and job hunting the last few days. I missed ya though.

I feel like we have so much to catch up on, where do I even start? Thursday, Sir Fabulous and I went to an art exhibit opening and then to a friend of a friend's birthday party. I am going to call her Sister Chaperon, Esq. See, she has had the challenging task of supervising Sir Fabulous and his mischievous ways since high school. I held it down in college and now that he is back in NYC, we are sharing duties. We are equal parts advisers and enablers to the kid. Also, she (like Sister Webby) is in law school, which is good because people like Sir Fab and I will need as many lawyer friends as we can get.

So, I was kinda like Sis Chaperon, Esq.'s plus one's plus one at the party, but everyone was really cool. I met the gay man of my dreams. I don't even really like straight men. They are a mess and they be having erectile issues. Maybe I should just marry a gay guy. Then again, we'd have some other erectile issues, eh? Well, there went that idea.

Speaking of weddings, my stepsister is getting married in Chicago this Labor Day weekend. Did you know that out of my siblings and step siblings that I am the only one who isn't married, engaged or in a committed relationship? Well I am. And you know what else? If I don't fit into a size ___ dress and have a cute date to bring back to Chicago for the wedding, I am going to tattoo "FAIL" on my forehead and ride to the Chi on a pogo stick. I am dead ass. This is my life's work for the next three months.

Sir Fab thinks that weddings are a big deal and bringing someone to a family event is a big deal, so I would have to really be dating someone to do that. I beg to differ. Going to Chicago would be fun for a boo, he wouldn't have to be my man per say. We could stay at a hotel, check out the African Festival, be drinking and boning and shit...and meet my father. I think that could work? Right? Not saying that I couldn't or wouldn't have a boyfriend by then. Just acknowledging that it is equally likely that I will get hit by lightening, win the lottery and join the Alvin Ailey Dance Company all on the same day. But I can definitely get a boo to join me for the weekend, right?

You know I am fucked, right?

Me, Sister HotChocolateChiBK and another as-to-be-named friend went to an HU party on Saturday. Man, oh man. If you thought my reckless days were over....wrong. We had like 6 drinks in a 30 minute period because there was an open bar. I had on a white dress and looked like a busty, busted angel. I felt the need to rap Tracey Lee's song to Tracey Lee (Shout out to you, Tray Lee! HU represent! I am sorry I ruined your song, I was drunk.).

I told no less that three women that I should beat their asses and that they were lucky I was dressed up. What is the deal with short women, btw? These hoes sisters kept bumping me and getting mad that my hair was tapping their little munchkin foreheads. Didn't nobody tell you to stop growing, damned little trolls. When you see a tall, fine woman like me, get out of my way! I will kill you! Shit! Short people really must don't got nothing to live for, because they stay trying to make me kill them. Dammit! I also think I sent some White women home. Something about "You didn't go to Howard, why are you here? Can't we get one night off, fuck!"

I am a really, really bad person. But I think I had a good time. Alls well that ends well, right?

I have to go,
Sister Toldja

PS- Sir Fabulous hipped me to the most HILARIOUS website ever, kittyhell.com. Check it out.

PPS- This video made me smile this weekend:

Don't Stop Now...

Just A Little Bit...

Them Fools Ain't Supposed To Beef...

So a good friend of mine decided he was interested in working at a famous grocery chain known for their organic foods and "hip" clientele. Let's call them "Complete Eats".


Anyway, my greedy butt was already tasting the discount tofu, when he burst my bubble with passage from the hiring section of their website:

Each "Complete Eats" location has a human resources department that aids in hiring and recruiting.....If your application passes an initial review and an opening still exists, you may be contacted and asked to come in to the store or facility to complete a more detailed application or go through an initial screening process....Formal interviews may be one-on-one or group. Team member participation in group interviews is one way we put our culture of empowerment into action. The team interview process is an effective way to make hiring decisions because the diversity of participants brings all of the different aspects of the roles and responsibilities of the position to the table...

The process of selecting a new "Complete Eats" team member doesn't end with the hiring process! During your orientation period (typically 30-90 days) you will attend orientation and training classes, and you and your team leader will discuss your progress.

If your team leader then recommends that you be considered for team membership, your fellow team members will vote on whether to add you to their team.....

Ooooook. Are they paying $75k a year to scan groceries? If so, sign me up. Otherwise, this is a wee bit much. Theoretically, the group interview and team input is a great idea and goes right along with the psuedo-socialist image of a store that charges $100 a pound for salmon. However, I can totally see where this would go awry.


If I had a million dollars....

Text of a conversation between my friend and I about the matter:

Friend:i feel like that can get real catty and out of hand.

Sister Toldja: Is someone gonna get in yr face and scream "YO BREATH SMELL LIKE TRANS FATS!"?

Friend: LMAO!

Friend:"i saw him drinking some hormone injected soy products, he gotta go"

me: "lol! she is my neighbor, and i saw PLASTIC in her garbage can."

me: "the bitch doesn't even recycle"

Friend: "she uses white paper"

I hate America,
Sister Toldja

Don't Stop Now...

Just A Little Bit...

TP2008- The Pedophile On Trial

This is reason enough to lock somebody up: 12 counts felonious goonery, 10 counts of reckless niggatry.

Heyyyyyy! Sorry no post yesterday, I was in Chicago being screened for jury selection for the R. Kelly trial. Can you believe they didn't pick me*? Perhaps it's because I walked alongside every other Black potential juror and tried to sabotage them:

"She was bumping 12 Play in the parking lot!"

"He was in line talking about how y'all are just trying to hold another Black man down!"

"She said R. Kelly could pee on her anytime!"

"HE'S BLACK!!!!!"

If that didn't do me in, then perhaps it was when I submitted to the judge my list of suggested jurors I felt I should work with: Clarence Thomas, Bill O'Reily, Rush Limbaugh, Dr. Phil, Sparkle, Changing Faces, Ne-Yo, Public Announcement and Jay-Z friend who sprayed R. Kelly with mace backstage at their last concert together.

Or maybe when I claimed to have never seen the tape and to have no bias against Kelly, but then put on a cassette tape playing "What What (In The Butt" when he walked in the courtroom and yelled out "Bubba gonna put in your butt, in your butt. Okkkkkaaay. Nasty ass! Nasty ass pedophile! What happened to 'show me some ID'? What you meant a school ID? Elementary school that is. Nasty ass nigga! Braids at 37 wearing ass buster! Pissy ass playboy! Jibberish-ass song writing jive turkey! Can't read-ass Calvin! Get YO big drawn-on hairline ass, peeing on girls ass, closet queen ass, can't read and write ass, Kenwood drop-out ass.....ooooh, I believe you should die! I believe you should fry, fry, fry! Ooooooh, I belive you should die! I believe you should die! Oh, I believe you should dieeeeee. Cause I believe in you pissing on little girls....

And that was when they kicked me out of the courthouse. A miscarriage of justice, if ever there has been one.

*Serious face*

All this aside, I do hope that justice will be served for Robert Kelly and that he does get to be a bottom bitch for 10-15 years in the state pen, but I don't see that happening. Whatever happened to the good old days when Uncle Leroy'nem would go beat a brother's ass for messing with a little girl?

You know what's gonna happen, don't you? Kells is gonna go free, Chicago is gonna have a ticker-tape parade, ladies will get in the club for free at age before twelve. Some church will invite him to come and they will pray for him and celebrate "justice". People will take pictures with him and their kids and the circle of life will begin once more. Doesn't give you much hope, does it?

**Sigh**

Then again, this happened....




.....so maybe miracles DO Happen.....

Fingers crossed,
Sister Toldja

*-CLICK THEM LINKS PEOPLE!

Don't Stop Now...

Just A Little Bit...

Five For Friday: Second In Command

It looks like Obama is really pressing to win the Democratic nod. Now as I have expressed in the past, my biggest fear about this election stems from my lack of faith in much-needed White voters to come through and do the right thing for the country and the party. I think that what Obama needs to do to earn their trust is to pick a Vice Presidential candidate that will really speak to their hearts. I did some serious thinking and assembled a list of potential vice-POTUSes that I think Mr. Obama should consider.

Five For Friday: Sure Shot Running Mates For Barack Obama

5) Elvis Presley

White people LOVE Elvis as much as Black people love Jay-Z, cognac, fried chicken and gun violence. With the "King" by Obama's side, there is no way that he can lose! And as the National Enquire has confirmed, Mr. Presley is not dead and has been living in Boise, Idaho and waiting for an opportunity just like this.

4) George Bush

Sure, he's the anti-Christ, the devil, an idiot, a liar, a cokehead, a thief, clumsy, Condoleeza Rice's secret jump-off, a murderer, a global terrorist, unattractive, a war monger, a Republican, a booze-hound, functionally illiterate, inarticulate and an all-around asshole. But he has the Presidental ticket game on lock. If he gets the most votes, he wins. If he gets the least votes, he wins. If Obama picks GWB as his vice-president, he can stop campaigning now and go chill in Dubai with the Bin Ladens and the Olsen Twins for the next five months and it wouldn't even matter. Bush will just steal the shit for them.

3)Chuck Norris

Norris is an obvious choice. There would be no need for a War On Terrorism, the sheer mention of Chuck Norris would make all potential terrorists abandon their weapons and break in to a round of "America, The Beautiful". (Insert a really inappropriate joke about Chuck Norris converting the entire Eastern world into a Christian democracy with a jihad from the tip of his left pinky). He could cash a $360 billion dollar check. Chuck Norris got a perfect score on the SATs by writing "Chuck Norris" in as every answer.

2) John Wayne

Just as Halloween is the White man's Kwanzaa, John Wayne is the White man's Martin Luther King. He was a gun-slinging, Hispanic woman-loving, White supremacist cowboy...American as apple pie! Now, Obama is gonna have to pull a "Weekend At Bernie's" to get the Duke on board, but even dead, I think he has a damn good shot.

And finally....

1) White Jesus

What better affirmation that White leadership won't be loss with a Black president can you ask for other than having White Jesus in the White House? If White Jesus doesn't bring home the White vote, it for DAMN sure will lock up the Black one. In fact, I think Black people love White Jesus more than White people. Voter registration in the hood will look like the Million Man March! All those Black folks who hid from the Census will reveal themselves and we'll find out that Blacks, in fact, make up 45% of the US population. Obama/White Jesus 2008 may be the dream ticket; however, since the ACTUAL Jesus isn't White, we can just get Jared Leto instead.


Yes, we can!
Sister Toldja

Don't Stop Now...

Just A Little Bit...

PSA: Can't Be That Other Woman

Hi! My name is Karrine and, if there is any justice in the world, I will die alone.

Public Service Announcement:

Ladies, we all bemoan the lack of decent, honest, faithful men. However, for every cheating man, there is at least one woman (or man, but that is another topic) who allowed him to indulge in his unfaithful ways (of course not knowing he was taken don't count). Now ask yourself, homegirl: why is that?

There are those women who could care less about other chicks' relationships, sure. But there are also a lot of other ladies who let their lust, love or loneliness to take precedence over their common sense and compassion. Perhaps he's an ex and you feel more entitled to him than she. Or he's the man of your dreams and if you twerk it JUST right and play your role, you think he'll make the right choice and run to you. Perhaps your man strayed and you start feeling like this is just how the world works. Or maybe you're just weak and couldn't resist.

No matter what your mental process was at the time, one thing is likely: you have or are gonna have a man someday that you love and you are gonna want him to be true to you. Now, karma rears its head in many different ways and you may suffer the repercussions for your act in any number of scenarios. But I would bet dollars to donuts (wtf does that mean anyway?) that many women who are the "other woman" will eventually find themselves on the other side of the love triangle.

Why? Because soooooo many men cheat. And this, my darlings, is what Paris Hilton would call "a vicious circle".

So if you are out there messing with other women's men, just know that you have lost all rights to moan about how "Men ain't shit". Just like Black men who exclusively and purposely only date non-Black women and then want to talk about people hating Black folks, or am I the only one who thinks that? No, my dear....YOU ain't shit and some other chick is reaping what you sowed. And unless she stole him from you in the first place (which begs the question: why are EITHER of y'all fucking with this guy?), she doesn't deserve that.


Hi! My name is....Barbara? I am not sure, as I am 107 years old. I felt it necessary to reveal an affair I had 50 years ago, as I am the Ghost of Whoring Past. I would die alone, but I've actually been dead since 1996.

I'm not claiming moral superiority over anyone, but I will say that I haven't done that with the exception of some make-out sessions in high school with committed guys. High school doesn't count, as teenagers are not people, but simply asses that may or may not one day become an entire person. I'd be lying if I said I were never tempted, but I have seen the effects of this drama firsthand...and I am too pretty to do something so ugly, ya feel me?

So, I am asking all my ladies to make a pledge with me, right now. Sorta like those high school pacts girls sign at school or church to remain virgins, but not a complete and utter lie. I am asking all the women out there to take this vow:

I, (your name), will not knowingly engage in inappropriate physical contact with another woman's man. As I want to have a man of my own who I can trust with my heart, I will not help to deny another woman the right to have that. Furthermore, I will encourage any man who tries to solicit me for such activities to reconsider either his desire to cheat or his place in the relationship all together. I will NOT be "the other woman".

Today's post was inspired by this lovely song right here:


As I tell my students, I believe in you....do you believe in yourself?

Be strong,
Sister Toldja

PS-If you are down with the movement, if you never want to be cheated on again and want to inspire other ladies to make the RIGHT choice, PLEASE link this blog anywhere and everywhere you see fit! This is a takeover, not a makeover! We can change the world.

Don't Stop Now...

Just A Little Bit...

All I Wanna Know Is....

Have you ever seen a baby so cute that your eyes watered and your heart melted? Why is my biological clock moving 61,320 minutes fast?

Am I the only one with an unbridled love for watermelon? Seriously, watermelon is so good I would....I don't know, but there are a lot of things I'd do for it.

Why is sex on my mind 60% of the time? All I want in this life is peace, prosperity and a lot of penis.

Does ANYONE get the constant Hip-Hop references I make in my posts (such as the one directly above), or are they solely for my personal amusement?

Isn't Day 26 just a contrived version of 112? Is 112 somewhere mad as Hell about this right now? Like Fefe Dobson must be over Rihanna?

Is it odd that I am fascinated by Khia, her hatred for Trina and her obsession with Lil' Wayne? Is it odder that I think she is a very attractive woman, minus the eyebrows and "eclectic teeth"?*

Do you think Beyonce is at the point where she believes that she has 17 inches of Hawaiian Silky growing naturally from her head at all time? What about Mary, does she feel like a natural blond after at least 16 years of golden tresses? Does she color the hair under her wigs? You think maybe she rocks an afro at home?

Speaking of hair, how am I gonna tell my dad that I am cutting my dreads? (Answer: after the fact.) He is gonna be beyond sad, but I am just sick to death of them. I feel like I've had the same hair style for three years?

Am I the only one who feels like Trick Daddy and Drama cancelled one another out? Like they were just too similar to exist in the same space? Same goes for Sole and Amil.

Speaking of Trick Daddy, did you hear what he did at HU's Homecoming in 2003? He was on stage during Yardfest and I was walking around not listening, because he is Trick Daddy. All of a sudden, I hear the line "Kill that baby, that baby ain't mine...." The entire yard, actually the entire world, froze. It was as if time stood still. I think we were all afraid that this was, in fact, the end of the universe.

Why have we not heard hi, hey, cat or dog from any of the members of Jodeci in forever?

Why did Method Man used to wear those creepy contacts to make his eyes look like they were crossed? Did he have a problem with being so damned cute? Is Eli from the class of 2005 wearing them too?

Speaking of the Wu-Tang, is it normal that the Shaolin brothers pop up in some form or fashion in my dreams at least twice a week lately?

And can we acknowledge the fact that Hillary Clinton's campaign accepted a check from the RZA? Why is this not news? You are telling me that people think Jeremiah Wright is more ridiculous than the RZA? Are you HEARING this, people? Hillary Clinton is a member of the Wu-Tang Clan!!!!! And she is the most gangsterest of them all, btw.

I won't hold this against the rest of the crew though. Clan in the front, yo'.


One more Wu-thing: was I the only one who was always too smart to attend Wu-Tang shows back in the day? I just knew you'd spend $30 on a ticket (this was the 1990s) and end up only getting the GZA, U-God, Cappadonna, Shyheim (where is he, btw?), Masta Killa and somebody cousin? Nothing about them dudes says "Reliable".

I drop Socrates philosophies and hypotheses,
Sister Toldja

*-"eclectic teeth" was YOINKED from the homies at VerySmartBrothas.com

Don't Stop Now...

Just A Little Bit...

From The Files Of The Handsome Succeeder: Toldja Spotting

Hello all! I am just coming back from a very fun weekend in my old stomping grounds, DC. I was very happy to see my dear homie, the Handsome Succeeder this weekend, and even happier that he decided to bless us with his words today. I will catch up tomorrow. Kiss, kiss.-ST

Like many of you out there, I look forward to that point in the day when it is break time and I can catch up with the misadventures of The Beautiful Struggler. I have never been a proponent of many blogs because I thought they were simply gossip columns, but I think Sis covers a lot of ground. Sometimes, while reading, I sit back and think, "She has to be embellishing," or "That can't be the whole story." I was curious to see how she would spin the events of the weekend, as I had been there to see it with my own eyes.

Well, this weekend I saw Sis in DC. We both came back for an end of the year banquet for a beloved organization we belong to(read: excuse to kick it with folks.) I see her walk in, and instantly she is embraced by one of her good friends. I look up a little later, she is making her rounds with cocktails in hand. About an hour later, she hits me with the statement that makes me realize that what we, the readers call blogging is actually Sis baring her life for all to see:

"They got SALMON!"

Pause.........I know many of you are thinking "Salmon? You hit us with an intro to let us know that this half vegan chick enjoys salmon? Man, forget this. I'm going to see what's going on at HotGhettoMess.com." I pray you, please stay with me here.

Let me set it up for you: I'm talking to one of my cohorts reminiscing of days long gone and I feel some one's presence on my right side. While my "Handsome Sense" is tingling (read: random sense of negroid urgency) I hear the infamous "They got Salmon!" I look up to see The Beautiful Struggler, in a banquet with perfectly good plates and utensils, eating salmon. She is using her hand as a plate, and a plastic fork that she pulled either from her purse or fun bags*. She has a simultaneous look of wonder, excitement, and happiness at the idea of all you can eat salmon for a limited time only. I stop her in her tracks, make her aware of the moment, and we literally laugh our asses off.

It is with this moment the entire blog comes to life. I visualize the drunken evenings with her host of characters. I feel the dualist angst she approaches dealing with the future. So the next time you are reading, just know, WHATEVER the ridiculous situation.........she's not lying.


The Handsome Suceeder

*No he di'in't!-ST

**Can I just add that salmon is expensive as hell these days, and any time that I get the opportunity to eat as much of it as I can, I will. Not only that, but I will forgo any vegetables or starches to make more room in my tummy for this delicious treat from the sea. Also, I was drunk.

Don't Stop Now...

Just A Little Bit...

With A Little Help From My Friends

Do you ever watch something and laugh your ass off, KNOWING that it's not funny and that you have just secured your section in Hell's VIP section?

I have.



And I hate myself.

Now, don't get me wrong- this video is sad, sad, SAD! And this poor boy reminds me of the little motherfucker guy who tried to break into my car with a fork a few weeks ago. But...he said he wants to do "hoodrat stuff" with his friends.

He said he wants to do HOODRAT STUFF WITH HIS FRIENDS.

HE SAID HOODRAT STUFF.

If you didn't chuckle at that, either you don't in fact have a soul or you are just a better person than I. Or maybe a little of both. However, I do believe the young man may be on the pulse of something greater than he himself. You see, I may have the Howard degree and the wit and the militant attitude. But at the end of the day....I, too, want to do hoodrat stuff with my friends.

Before you get to judging, you better make sure that you are without any hoodrat tendencies of your own. Because I'd bet my bottom biscuit that yes, you too, would rather sleep till 'noon than wake up at 5AM for work. Yeah, you. And I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm NOT the only one on here who has ordered water with lemon at Red Lobster in order to save more room for the Endless Shrimp. Don't make me name names.

Five For Friday: Top Five Hoodrat Things I Like To Do With My Friends

1) I'll Have A Bottle Of Your Finest Sparkling Malt Beverage


I don't know about YOU, but I'd LOVE to crack open a bottle of Verdi Raspberry Spumante, or some Sutter Home White Merlot and watch my stories on a Tuesday afternoon. Maybe roll up a little somethin', somethin'. You know....I like cheap liquor and I can not lie. These other sisters can deny....

It's not that I don't like the good stuff and I can definitely order an appropriate and tasty bottle of wine. I just like the cheap stuff too. Since we got "grown", a lot of people talk about how they can't drink rail liquor, or how Cuervo not good enough for them no more (ahem, my mother). Bump that. It's like this: I can take a taxi or I can take the bus, but either way, I am gonna enjoy the ride to Drunkytown.

I recognize that that is a terrible analogy, btw.

2) You Don't Want No Problems, Problems


Think a college-educated woman wouldn't leave her man's ride sitting on bricks after he cheated? Think again. Me and my girls haven't done this to anyone YET, but they know I am down to clown if need be. Maturity and grace be damned, if he was really wilding, then we need to get him back "Hit 'Em Up Style".

3) With The Booming System

I realize this picture is completely irrelevant, but I just really dig it.

I have been driving for three years now and I have yet to lose my affinity for playing my sounds at a volume that is often times offensive and inappropriate. However, here is where I deviate a little from the standard issue hoodrat behavior model. You won't hear me playing anything too ignorant or something I would be embarrassed for an elder to hear (usually!). The other day, I found myself cranking some Johnny Gill and Luther Vandross on the ave, and these teenage girls looked at me and I realized that I was very, very old on the inside.

4)Holla If You Hear Me

She must be one of those Creoles.

I am classy, not trashy [(C)DC's own CCB]. However, my friends and I can be a little bit loud sometimes. And as we are Black, we are genetically predisposed to talk in the movies. We don't MEAN to be rude, we just can't help it! It just so happens that we had to discuss something very important during the denouement of the story. But don't even worry, 'cause I can get you the bootleg for two dollars by the crib N-E-way.

5)Um...

Well, I don't do THAT much hoodrat stuff with my friends, but can I tell you a story about this woman who lives near me who does hoodrat stuff with her husband?

Great. Well, there is this lady who lives by me. Long story short: she named her six-year-old daughter....wait for it....wait for it...ooh, you finna be mad....she named her BEYONCE. Who does that? Beyonce is only an acceptable name because she is a superstar. Beyonce Jenkins from Bed Stuy is gonna have some issues, I reckon.

Peace in the Northeast, y'all!
Sister Toldja

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