Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Another Black man is dead

My heart caught in my chest as I saw the headlines dance like wildfire across my social media feeds this morning -- another Black man shot and killed by police. Not this shit - again. His name is Alton Sterling.

There is power in calling things as they are. And all I see is a man who will not get to see his kids grow up. Who was removed by force from his family. A 15-year-old who needs his father more than ever. But the state of Louisiana handled that situation for him.

I'm tired of the platitudes. The memes. The tragedy spreading like wildfire across my social media newsfeeds.  We post. We march. We pray. And this shit happens all over again. Wash, rinse and repeat. I mean.

What is the plan, y'all? And why do we even have to keep asking this question? Why do we have to keep asking police not to kill us with no retribution, no punishment, just a slap on the wrist. Black
people in this country are killed for sport -- and we stay losing.

Our souls are being hunted. And we cannot even rest from the grave. Inextricably, we will see images of Alton's murder splashed across social media and newscasts. I am not ready. I can't. Not yet. Mentally, I am not ready to go there. I can't watch. Do the details even matter though?

I'm not going to bother to repeat them here; look them up. All you need to know is that another Black man is dead.  And I am ready to scream, cry and hug my children even tighter.




Ciara and Russell tie the knot

Been in a funk ALL damn day. No funny videos, memes or nothing else. I vacillate between wanting to scream, cry and punch someone in the face. It's rare that I go a day without laughing. But this right here??

This made my little Black heart smile. Ciara is a beautiful bride. Congrats to the happy couple. I hope they have a lot of babies. Black love. If no one else won't love us, we still will.

Monday, May 16, 2016

Janelle Monae

She ALWAYS keeps it on point.

She's rocking Giorgio Armani at the White House State Dinner on Friday.

Sunday, March 27, 2016

Easter Sunday suit shenanigans

It is Easter Sunday. And I know my Lord did not die on the cross for this foolishness right here.
He did not spend 3 days hanging on that old rugged cross for you to commit the sin of wearing a Skittle-colored suit.  
He did not wear a crown of thorns for this act of fashion desecration. He did not rise from the grave after 3 days for these fashion sins to just all of a sudden happen.
He paid it ALL on that cross. But salvation did not mean buying homey the Clown suits and thinking my Lord would be perfectly OK with these shenanigans. 
For why? The God that sits high and looks down low is looking at these fools. And he is shaking his head, rethinking the whole free will thing. 
My Lord. Because this is certainly not what he meant. This is what he gave his earthly son up for? He knows that even his son, Jesus, the prince of peace, cannot intercede. 
With these getups, I am not even sure if Peter will let them get into the pearly gates. Back to you, tho. 
You went past all those Black and Blue suits and this is what YOU chose - being of sound mind and body and all. You decided to look like a Paas Easter egg on purpose? 
Jesus be a fashion fence, because I cannot. 
You are in HIS house after all. And I just do not see how you are OK with disgracing it. He is the alpha and Omega. But not even he can fix this.
Who told you to wear a Barbie pink suit? 
And who told you, you were Steve Harvey??
And why is dude pointing at a rainbow bright suit dude like, really?  
And that you needed to wear a suitcoat down to your shins? 
Lawd. Is that Jaheim in that cross between cobalt blue and Barney purple suit? I cannot even.
I just need you to keep singing, boo. And not look to the hills from whence cometh all of your help wearing a fashion sin before God.  
I am not even sure what this last dude is doing. Meggings do not make a suit, sir. And neither do electric blue kicks. How you doin'? 

Don't even play. You I KNOW you saw this fashion mess today. You should have asked for prayers of forgiveness .Because there are some things even Jesus cannot fix. 

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Black Girl Sign Language

We live with Black women. Go to school with Black women. Love Black women. Work with Black women.

But some of y'all did not get the Black Woman Sign Language memo... Ummm... yes, there is such a thing. What? You didn't know? Anybody who has lived, loved or been around Black women should know this.

But ...  clearly, some of y'all didn't or don't know. But you gone learn today. So don't ever say I have never told you anything.

Because I just might have saved you an ass whooping. Because, really. It's ALL about the nuances. And there are subtle differences that, if you don't know Black women or are not around us a lot, you might miss some of these cues.

But for the uninitiated or unaware, here's a quick and dirty:

  1.  If it involves hand clapping at every syllable as a form of enunciation, some shit is about to go down and somebody is about to get their ass whupped. Example" I *clap* told *clap* you *clap* to *clap* get *clap* back *clap.
  2.  If it involves hands on the hips, cocking that head back to the side, Black girl side eye or finger pointing or waving hands in the air ... chile ... you need to duck. Because this is a clear sign that it's beyond the point of no return. And  hands are about to be thrown and you might just be about to catch one. 
  3. If it involves elevated voices. We are only going to argue for so long. If you hear non-work voices and tones, watch out. The moment you hear, 'Bih, whet?' It's going down. Get ready. We are not gonna risk our 9-5 and our checks. But asses will be beat come 5 p.m. off work property, believe that.


You're welcome.