Sunday, June 24, 2007
What's up with....
Niggas not answering blacked numbers on their cell phones?
I mean are you really that afraid of a damned phone call? If someone calls that you don't want to talk to, hang the fuck up.
Niggas not having a job?
I ain't even gotta explain this one.
Niggas wearin white tees and sweats like it's a dam outfit?
Although you already know Negra's feelings about how sexy an ensemble this is for young Black men.
Women wanting to be some nigga's "baby mama"?
Folks who are willing to have a child together, but specifically not wanting to get married?
Aren't children more of a commitment than marriage. I'd rather be married than have a child. Well, actually, no, I wouldn't. But I'm just a hoe like that.
Why is that the nastiest shit in the world? It tastes like hot iguana piss. And that's everything on the menu.
No, I don't have to put you in my "Top Eight". And everything I say on there is not accurate. The majority of the stuff i put on there, is meant to be funny. When I say my occupation is "Aspiring Baby Mama", that does not mean I'm looking to fill out job applications.
Yo dis ya boi Tra-vi-viaughn staight ouuta Copmton, that CPT, knowwhatimsayin, and im lookin fo a lady who be a lady at all time. I 'm on my grown an, and I ain't got no time fo no hoe's game playin and shit. I need a lady who iz a lady, but can take that shit like a muthafuckin' man. No Homo, son.
Freaking hilarious. If Black Planet don't get your fire burning, your wood's wet.
The whole "no Homo" thing?
Nigga, saying no homo does not cancel out the very homo things spewing out off your very homo mouth. If you feel the need to say no homo after any statement, guess what? Your ass is a homosexual.
Summer's Eve feminine wash?
Just wash your tang with soap, and if your not nasty, the shit will work out just fine. Ain't no body's vagina that damn sensitive. Yeah, I have some, but only because they were two for a dollar, at the Dollar Tree.
Me just writing random thoughts?
Thursday, June 7, 2007
-Do Black men really think it's okay to have more than one "baby mama"? I know a guys ( who is RIGHT) by the way), who just turned 27 last week, and has 3 children by four different women, and doesn't think that he has too many. Truly a tragedy. But he could still get the panties.
-What's up with homophobia in the Black community? I'm Christian, and a Sunday Schhol teacher, even, but when it REALLY boils down to it, why are you so concerned with who OTHER peopke sleep with? THat actually seems a bit more twisted than sleeping with somone of the same gender, in my opinion. In other words, DO YOU(and whoever else you want to)! If it truly is a sin, the LORD will be the one to determine that, and he will jude and deal with that. He is the only one concerned with whom your'e screwing, casue I sure as hell don't. I got a hard enough time trying to keep my damned self outa hell, knaemean?
-Is BET for real? Are they seriously trying to pass this shucking, jiving, and tomfoolery off on us? Do they think we are simply too stupid to reconize this ignorant programing?
-Why did HErbert( ole boy Iwith the 3 baby mamas who could get it any time he freakin' wanted it) tell me, and I quote, "You don't like BLack people". Is he serious? IS this how people se me? This man thinks I don't love my own people, simpky because I refuese to participate int he big mistrel show that is considered "Young Black America"? He thinks that I don't love my peopke because I desire to be educated? This man actually had the audacity to tell me that my not listening to rap, somehow takes away from my Blackeness. I said to him " I love my people. I just know who we are, an d i f more of us knew who we were, we wouldn't act like this., no, not all of us were kings and queesn, a lot of us were pesants, and hell some even slaves,. But we are strong. WE are inventors, philosphers, thinkers. WE invented civilazation.Not becasue we are supiror, but because we were the only ones on the planet for a time. EVerything comes from, and stems from us. THat is beautiful. We have done so much, that we will never be credited for, partly because of who we are, and a lot of people choose not to acknowledge tat, but mostly in part due to who wev'e allowe ourselves to become. We fell right into the trap that was ever so blatrntly set for us.Everything created for our demise, we have embraced, and made it our own, and somehow made it ;mainstream' and 'cool'. Pimps? Sure, pimps exsisted well before 50cent and Biship Don MAgic Juan, but it is my theory that with the creation of the Blacksplotation films of the 1970's(thagt were created for the WHITE audience--NOT US), that that somehow became cool, and intriguing.. Crack, we fell REALLY hard on that one. Around the time I was born (1984) and the years prior to that, we fell face first into that. Our families? Destroyed. Our finances? Over. Our education? Forget about it. Who needs education, when you can sel crack, and make money? I actually walked into a store the other day to purchase a cell phone, and I asked the guy how well the phone woked, and his reply was 'it's aaight, ecept it ain't got no cell phone, but other tjhan that, it's that CRACK."
Lawd Jesus, take me now. Oh, and YES, La Negra Linda really DID tell that man all that. You ain't finna sit up and tell me I don't love MY people. Nigga out his damn mind.
-What's up with dudes asking us for money? When that become cool? I must have missed the memo that being a bum is the hotness. That "crack:, if you will.
Does anybody still read Jet Magazine?
Does R. Kelly really have a song on that diaster he calls an albums talking about him not being able to answer the phone because hes's proabably busy having sex, or getting high? Isn't this man like 40 years old?
Will Black girls PLEASE stop wearing Apple Bottoms, and Baby Phat? THat shit is not cute.
-Oh and fells, while this may not be a question, but for those of you still rocking G-Unit, you need to go ahead and cut that shit out too.
-Does it really make sense to ride around in your car for 6 months with no insurance, so you can get rims> For your Monte Carlo? While you still livin' with your mama?
-On the contrary, aren't those guys with the Monte Carlos, do rags, and basketball shorts the business? I mean, does it really get any sexier than that?
-Can someone please explain this whole MOB(Money Over Bitches) theory? And why is it always the brokest Negroes with no jobs that have that mess tattooed on them?
-Is anybody Else in love with Pretty Ricky? I have BOTH albums, and continue to bump them like the shit isn't ignorant.
-Why is it that anyone that doesn't like Beyonce is a "hater" or jealous?
-When did it become cool to be a "Dope Boy"?
-What's up with Remy Ma's do?
-Isn't it time for television to come to an end?
-Why am I only creative at work? I'm super goofy and lazy at home.
-Why does every white man in my office hit on me?
-Why do white men everywhere hit on me everywhere?
-Am I wrong for not wanting to get married?
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Please click this link and watch this ENTIRE video.
What the hell happened to our men?
My ex's (don't ack like y'all 'ont know who I'm talkin' bout, JR's trifflin/sexy ass) MAMA was in this video. This shit is hot out here in L.A.
Now, not everybody out here is a gangster obviously, but there are a LOT of them out here. And even more who WANNA be gangsters. What the hell? And if you're not a gangster, or you don't want to be one, you wanna be one of these.
When did Black people stop reading? 'Cause I'm pretty sure this nigga ain't picked up nan book.
I'm so fucking sick of my young, Black men acting out like this. Everything is about being a pimp or a gangster. Everything that's attractive, entertaining, or nice is either "gangsta" or "pimp".
I once asked a guy I liked what he did for a living or if he went to school, and his response was, "Why you askin' me all lat? I mean who all up in my business. It ain't like we gone get married or nuthin'!"
What?! Damn nigga, why you just can't say you ain't got no damn job?!
But for those them do "tell" you what they do for a living, here's what they often say (I've comprised a list for you):
1."I'm a money maka."
2."I'm a go getta(damn you Jezzy)."
3. "I make it do what it do."
4."I be on nuh 'grind'. "
5."I'm make music."
6. "I just do me."
How is 'doin' you and gadamn occupation?
and my very favourite, please note, this response can be given to either question 'What do you do for a living, or, 'How was your day?'
7. "Well, I can't really be sayin' all lat on da phone, knaemean?"
I'm so mad a Black men right now it's sickening.
Why when I was at the copier yesterday, did this white man call me Kim, and when I turned around, he said" Oh, I'm sorry, wrong person".
HOLD UP. PAUSE!
Lemme tell y'all about what "Kim" looks like:
*mocha frapaccino colored skin
*short natural hair
*size 14 A bra
*only wears slacks
*wears business suits everyday, she she is in HR
Now, lemme tell y'all what La Negra Linda looks like:
*5"4(5"8 in heels, which I wear EVERYDAY)
*milk chocolate skin
*long basket weave
*wears skirts everyday
*dresses very casually
1.How the fuck could you get us confused? If Kim wore the shoes I wear, she wouldn't be my height.2. Did the muthafucka think she grew 14 inches of hair since the last time he saw her?
Oh did I fail to mention he had just left a meeting with this hoe FIVE FUCKING MINUTES before he saw me?! I saw they asses in the conference room!
I had on a BROWN PLAID SKIRT!
She had on a BLACK SUIT!
WHAT IN THE MUSTY COITUS HELL?
Sorry y'all. I just had to get this shit outta my system. I'll be back tomorrow with a few funny posts. I'm off to pick Carl up from work?
Huh? Who's Carl? Oh. Yeah, remember lil' dick? Yeah, that's him. He thinks I'm his woman now. Meh.
Turns out his penis isn't so little. It's just when you have sex with a mule,(JR) and then go back to humans,, it just seems smaller.
I'll be back tomorrow y'all.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
My mother has taken it upon her light skinded ass to take a Spanish class. You know what that means for MY pretty dark ass? That I gotta help--no I gotta DO her muthafuckin' homework. So I'm off to do that. I will post something tomorrow, PROMISE. You don't know how much I have to tell y'all. From reconciling with my best friend, to having 3 men propose to me, and tell me to have their damned child, starting a new job that pays more, where all these damn white folks is up my ass like a thong, to having one more (horrible) sexual encounter with the love of my life. Stay tuned bitches. Negra is comin.
Like a porn star.
Promise I'll post tomorrow.
I have some funny stuff for Julia. I heart Julia. And Jess. And my boyfriend Coco. And Goldilocs. And Truth. And, who else I'm missin? Oh yea, Tanya. She thinks I don't love her. I does.
Okay. Seriously, I'll be back like herpes bitches.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Eurweb reports that Master P will be doing his first play.Native New Orleanian, Perry Miller (aka Master P) who made his fortune as a rap artist and Founder and CEO of No Limits Records is now capitalizing on the "Madea" phenomenon with "the first Hip Hop gospel stage play." His first effort, Uncle Willy's Family Tragedy, is a comedy based on the serious repercussions of Hurricane Katrina which debuts in Meridien, MS on September 6. To read the entire article, http://www.eurweb.com/story/eur28348.cfm
First of all, how in the hell do you lease a casket? Do any of you know? I'm at a loss for words. Really.
Anyway, my play mom sent this to me. It was kinda funny in a morbid sort of way. I've never been to a funeral, so I really don't know. Does this really go down?
You know you're at a black funeral when:
1. three generations get out of the family car to beat down someone for cutting into the funeral procession.
2. You have relatives coming in shackled from the State Penitentiary to pay their respects.
3. A fist fight breaks out.
4. When people break down crying, try to climb into the casket, and tell the Lord that they "want to go."
5. The dead person is wearing $3,000 worth of jewelry, and the funeral directors strip the body before closing the casket for the final time.
6. Friends and family wear T-shirts with a photo of the deceased on it...to the funeral!
7. Someone walks around to view the body and yells out, "DAT WUZMY N*G**A!"
8. The brothas stand around drankin after the service and someone "pours a li'l sumptin on the ground for the homey who's no longer with us."
9. Most of the relatives keep fainting before, during, and after the service.
10. Everybody strips the grave of flowers to take home.
11. The dinner after the funeral turns into a family reunion, folks break out cards and dominoes, somebody starts playing some Marvin Gaye, and all the older men start talking about how they used to pimp back in the day.
12. the obituary was made on a home typewriter and is filled with misspelled words...even the name of the deceased!
13. The picture on the obituary is of the deceased from 30 years ago!
14. Everybody is trying to out cry one another as if crying the loudest will qualify for a prize after the funeral.
15. The deceased didn't have 2 nickels to rub together, but leaves the world in a $15,000 silk lined mahogany coffin.
16. The soloist sings about 15 verses of "Precious Lord" or "His eye is on the Sparrow."
17. The funeral is two weeks after the death of the decedent.18. Speakers start cussing during their "remarks."
19. Unknown children shout "Daddy" from all over the church.
20. The preacher doesn't know which wife to give the flag to.
Maybe I'm overly sensitive about the subject because I'm well, you know, Black. It's not a stereotype if it's true. We eat fried chicken. And we eat it a lot.
So, last night, I'm starving. I think I've been going through a bit of depression, and have been sleeping a lot, and not eating as much as I normally do. A bit of that is due to depression (no it's NOT J.R. J.R. who?), but the majority of that is because I am so picky that I would rather not eat than eat something I don't like. Yeah, stupid I know. I have gone 2 days without eating because I couldn't find anything that I wanted to eat. I went grocery shopping the other day, so that I could prepare my own meals.. My mother makes super every night for my father, and I never eat. I don't know what the hell that had to do with anything, I'm just typing at this point. I really need to have some sort of an outline when I'm doing this whole blogging thing.
So like I was saying before I started saying the nonsense in the previous paragraph, I was absolutely FAMISHED last night. I was so hungry I could boiled pig endometrium . So I thought.
I was at work last night, and my boss(who is so freaking cool, it's ridiculous) asked what I'd eaten for lunch. I told him I went home, and had a little carne (meat), and that was all. He wanted food, and I wanted some more food, so we decided that we would get something to eat. He suggested "Greasy Chicken". I agreed. He eats this stuff like every day, and I've seen it. It looks DELICIOUS!
Since hindsight is 20/20, looking back, it's my damned fault. You don't trust people who aren't Black about fried chicken. But then again, HOW DO YOU FUCK UP FRIED MUTHAFUCKIN' CHICKEN?!!!!
We had a ton of work last night, so he wasn't able to get the chicken until much later that evening.
Oh how my mouth watered in anticipation of the deep fried yard bird. I could barely focus or concentrate thinking about it.
And when he brought it back? Lawd Jesus! I saw the massive grease stains that penetrated the brown papered bag, and the smell emanating from it, and thought that I had died and gone to Heaven.
Only later to learn that I had been sodomized, brutally murdered, and ended up in Satan's Laundromat.
I asked how much did I owe him, and he said the five most beautiful word in the English language, "Don't worry about it, it's paid for". I'm wondering how this can get any better I'm damned near ready to speak in tongues now. *cue fast organ, tambourine, and bass guitar music*
I sat down at my desk, and asked where the hot sauce was. 'Cause who the hell can eat fried chicken without hot sauce?
He told me he had some. Great. So I'm waiting for this:
But-- got this:Okay, I mean, it ain't Louisiana, but, Tapatio is okay, I guess? Get yourself a cup-o-noodles, put some lime juice and Tapatio in that bitch, and tell me that shit ain't the BUSINESS. Shout out to all my Mexican homies that taught me that shit.
So, I begin to eat my french fries. And they were on point. I was shoving like six or seven in my mouth at once. Nah, wasn't the hunger, I'm just a damn pig. Call me 5-0.
Then I go to have a bite of chicken. I see that there are feathers still attached to that bitch! Uh? Okay, I just pluck them sumbitches out. Ain't no big thing.
But then I have a bite of that "chicken".
I don't know what the ethnicity of the people who prepared this, this, "chicken", but I do know good and damned well that they weren't of the African Diaspora. Well maybe they were since that shit tasted like deep fried fruit bat afterbirth.
That was the most disgusting thing I've ever put into my mouth--ever. And I'm not one of those girls who lies, and says they don't preform fellatio.
I wanted to throw up my ovaries after eating that shit.
The hot sauce did nothing for it. It would be like attempting to eat possum testicles and putting salt on them to enhance the flavor. Shit.Don't.Work.
I can't believe I wrote an entire entry on this shit. The best part of that meal was my strawberry soda.
You know food is bad when it being free still doesn't make it taste good. Good Golly.
Friday, March 9, 2007
Don't you just love Black men's necks? Isn't that the sexiest thing ever?
Uh, yea, anyway, watch the video. Especially you, Coco.
Why is this turning into a damned message board for Coco LaRue? Y'all PLEASE post comments so I can have someone else to talk to. I swear this nigga has put roots on my ass to like him so much.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Hold up, pause. Did this mahfuckka just say "the hoes love me?"
*turns volume all the way down and creams herself*
SIDENOTE* How many times, can one say the word "motherfucker" in a single sentence?
Monday, March 5, 2007
And you thought you had a bad job. This guy is collecting dead fish out of Kankaria Lake in Ahmedabad, western India. What happened?
Pollution. But not the usual sort. They say "the ritual immersion of Hindu Ganesha elephant deity idols made from plaster of paris and chemical dyes contaminated the water during a recent festival."
Nah, son. I had a job that was even worse than that. I loved it though. Peep this.
Okay, before I became a social worker, I had quite a
few jobs that sucked. A lot of them ( in fact All of
them) revolved around health, and persons with
The job I had prior to this was called "Senior
Employment Specialist". My duties included, teaching
those with developmental disabilities( just follow me
folks), creating and finding suitable employment for
them. So basically I taught a class, helped out people
with mental retardation carry out their everyday
business and try to find them a job.
I had this one client. Let's call him A. A had a
disease called Prader Willi, which basically means he
was overweight, and didn't have the appropriate
mechanism in his brain to tell him he was full, thus
allowing him to eat soooooo much that he stomach could
literally pop. A was about 5'2, and 315lbs, and was
the most lovable person you ever met. He had moderate
mental retardation, and didn't speak much. I always
talked to him in Spanish ( he and his family were from
Argentina), and he would speak back to me in English.
The job was quite rewarding and I loved it, bu I was
NOT making enough to deal with the shit (read further,
and you'll understand why that's a joke) that I had to
deal with. The job became more and more unbearable.
As I said before, A didn't talk much, so he didn't
communicate with me the way he should have, or was
capable of doing. For instance. There was
this one time that we were in my car. He was unable
(and shit, so the fuck was I for that matter ) to take
the bus, so he rode around with me (along with another
client) in my car. Anyway we were in my car, and we
were havin' a good ole' time. We had just had lunch,
and because the summer of '05 was a a HOT one ( it
averaged 114 degrees) we had lunch in my car, with the
air and radio on. He was laughin' and nodding his head
to the music, and before we knew it, it was time for
him to go home. So, he rolls up the window (yes,
ROLLS up the window. Nothing in my car is automatic,
not even the transmission), unlocks the door, and gets
up to get out. As I'm saying by to him, I notice
something in my seat that looks like a cross between
thick chili, and a melted chocolate bar. Wait. Pause.
Me: A, did you have an uh, "accident" honey? Why
didn't you tell me you had to use the bathroom, dear?
I woulda ...
Me: Ah, shit (pun fully intended).
I don't know why I thought about that story, or decided to post it, but golly, was that shit nasty.
If you're interested (which it don't look like ya'll is cosiderin' ya'll don't say a damn thang in the comments section) I can tell you some more horrid stories. I have some far worse than that.