Slick Talk

Containment, Tony Hayward? Is that what you just said? How about you push that word "containment" toward all of those fish and other marine life that are dying from your product. Better yet, why don't you tell that to my people in New Orleans. You know the ones who make their livings fishing and shrimping in those otherwise beautiful waters. Or how about their wives and children at home who have to run from your oil like it's a rabid dog in the neighborhood. I mean the rain is on its way and as though the destruction of hurricane season isn't enough, you are okay with adding another worry. You shrug on tv and give a "well, at least this and this didn't happen" approach. My kings and queens of New Orleans are just getting their kingdom back from Katrina. But you are cool with the sick pelicans on Bird Island and the empty and discolored fishing waters. You're cool with hiding behind the skirt of the U.S. Government and sidestepping the questions we ask.

Now I do live in Florida but I am pissed about the "Hey, no oil here" approach this state is taking too. I want Florida to get off its ass and help Louisiana to stay as clean as we are. Use some of the money you're dumping into commercials to say that we're fine so that people will come here to add to the aid there. WE ARE THE COAST. And even though state lines divide us, we should have an allegiance.

BP needs to live by the playroom rules that all of our mother's taught us. "If you mess it up, you clean it up." Save our coast and wetlands.

JUSTICE

Laila

So I saw a little girl with her father today and the dialogue really warmed my heart. There we were just sitting in the theater and she kisses him on the cheek in the middle of the movie and says, "I love you, Daddy". He says, "I love you too, Laila." She smiled and said, "But do you know why?" When he asks why, she says, "Because you were the best when I was born and you still are now". And instead of letting it go, he says, "You were the best the day you were born and you get better every day". That was wonderful for more than just the obvious reasons but Laila hit on something big. There are far too many fathers that are great when their kids are born but give up the race before they reach the finish line. It is father's like my big brother and Laila's dad that are the exceptions. Each day, good fathers create opportunities to give their children reasons to love them. And most importantly, they never stop. I can only hope to marry not only a great man, but one God has built to become a great father.

(Don't forget Father's Day on June 20.)

JUSTICE

Ya' Know It's Funny.......

.....how when you start to take some of the biggest steps in your life, the people you always thought would be behind you are the ones with their feet planted firmly in a place just close enough to throw shade on you.

.....how the people who JUST became attached (sometimes literally) yesterday after years of loneliness hit you with the "That's why you're single" dissertations.

.....how the guys who always say they want a "classy girl" break their necks to sneak a peak at the carbon copy sluts.

.....how girls have such a long list of requirements for their men but such a short one for themselves. I mean, why does he have to be smart, caring and make at least $100k when you get to be selfish, bitchy and wait for him to pay your way?

.....how we bleed ourselves to love those who don't deserve it but ignore those who do.

.....how people who have the ugliest feet are the first to wear sandals.

.....how some people never have time or money for things until it's something THEY wanna do.

.....how Rihanna was on a jet ski with Chris Brown after "the incident" but became an ice queen with Diane Sawyer.

.....how some of the same people who love Nicki Minaj hated Lil' Kim. Same shit, different day.

.....how the people who tell you to let your guard down are the same people who hurt you.

.....how many BFF's you get when you're achieving greatness and people need/want something.

.....how so many bandwagon basketball fans didn't know who Nate Robinson was until the 2010 playoffs.

.....how some of the most beautiful people in the world have no idea that they're beautiful at all.

.....how Conrad Murray still walks the streets after killing music (R.I.P. MJ).

.....that they sterilize needles for lethal injections.

.....that a man wearing skinny jeans can be called a man at all.

.....that after "Party Like A Rockstar" was made, a lot of Black people suddenly realized AC\DC was right- "Rock & Roll Ain't Noise Pollution".

.....how Larry King is like 400 and is still alive.

.....that some people only associate Bob Marley with marijuana and never listen to his music. Oh, but they have the posters so that makes them "in the know". Fuckin' losers.

.....how Bob Segar can rock so hard and nobody notices.

.....how the Janis Joplin film was never a reality in the US.

.....that some people don't dig P!nk. Really? The chick is bad.

.....how Hip-Hop gets confused with his bastard brother Rap.

.....that Pharell was what it took to make skateboarding hot.

.....that the Tea Party still exists.

.....that Souljaboy looks like Flavor Flav's bastard son.

.....that I am a pitbull owner and lover and even I forgive Michael Vick.

.....how we are born with more bones than we die with.

.....how Christians are supposed to love and accept everyone but they talk about other religions like they are fads or science experiments.

.....that George W. Bush singlehandedly ruined our country and it's not him we are at war with.

.....that people invest in things they don't fully understand.

.....that I had so many "friends" in college but now I have no one.

.....how even though there is so much of my life my dad won't get to see, before he left this earth, I feel like he understood me and the things that are to occur in my life and has better prepared me for them. (R.I.P. Pops)

.....how a man with none of my blood in his veins could love and cherish me like his own daughter (Thank you, Lord).

.....how people don't believe in platonic friendship anymore.

.....that people look at me strangely for being friends with my exes.

......that light skin, thin and long hair equal pretty to most men.

......that the ex who wasn't worth a damn when you were together is trying to claim superstar/baller status now. (Boy, stop!)

.....how just because you have a few standards, you're labeled "too picky".

..... that after her stripper antics, parents still allow their kids to listen to Miley Cyrus but Chris Brown is banned in their house.

.....how Miley Cyrus is even considered a real musician.

.....that Janet Jackson is still so GORGEOUS after all she has been through. (Eat your heart out, girls under 40).

.....how having money makes women think he's sexy.

......how EVERYBODY is suddenly a recording artist. There should be more emphasis on "artist", I think.

......that some people love gay people as long as they aren't related to them.

......that there is even a question of whether or not gay people should be allowed to get married.

......how some people are so easily influenced and worship the people around them like they are God. Maybe if you would, as my frat brother says, take back your sack and have your own mind, people wouldn't despise you so much and you would find yourself a whole lot faster. Say what you want about me. I know ME.

......how some people give up the hallways of high school but keep the mentality.

......that someone sent me a text saying "You use to much bad language in your blog and that's why I won't read it. I'm sorry." That's cool. I respect your opinion but I don't need your apology. This blog is for people who can respect my feelings and the fact that I don't censor myself. If that's not you, I am glad you didn't subscribe.

......that somewhere there is a "Things You're Supposed To Care About To Be Socially Accepted" list and that people actually abide by it.

......that people accept things in relationships just because it's what they're used to.

.....how you're so vain, you probably think this blog is about you.....and it really is.

JUSTICE

(Stay tuned for Part 2)

Freewrite

I don't give a damn about Sex in the City. Glee is not my thing. I have a potty mouth. I don't obsess over my hair. I don't really wear makeup. I play video games. If I am wearing sweats while watching tv, my hand might be in them (not my underwear). Oh yeah, I wear sweats. I quit cheerleading because it was sickening. I don't wear bathing suits. I am not coy and demure. My hair is not waist-length. My teeth aren't perfect. I don't like foot massages. I do admit when I'm horny. I don't want to hear twenty stories about my friends and their boyfriends. I love football. I love basketball. I don't love baseball but I do love baseball caps. My ass is fat. My boobs are normal sized. "Fucker" is one of my favorite words and should really be in the dictionary. Sometimes, I just really don't wanna talk. I don't find body hair sexy. I won't melt just because you sing for me. Say something stupid and I will be the first to tell you. I don't drink. I don't dig one-night stands. I will probably wear jeans to the club. I don't dig softies (I just might make you cry). I do want to get married. I do want to have children. I am smart. I read. I am enterprising. I won't let you run over me. I won't ever let a man lay another harmful hand on me and get away with it. I don't NEED you. Maybe, just maybe, that is why I'm single.

Adventures of Club Night

So my little sister graduated college on Friday May 7, 2010 (again, congrats Booski). We had her a party with family and it was really a nice affair. But with she and I both being young and her friends being in town, naturally we wanted to get out and have a little fun afterward. But instead what we found were a few things that made us quite sad. We went to a club in our hometown and we honestly did expect to find a trace of a good time. When we walked in, we saw a few people we went to high school with. Keep in mind that I am five years older than she but the same people who went to high school with me know EVERYBODY at the club just like the ones who went to high school with her. So what this tells us, Mr. Party Animal,is that you come to this same spot every weekend. Then the dudes proceed to stand in a circle and sing the words to every song that comes on as they hug each other and throw up gang signs. Mr. Party Animal, how are you gangsta when you are hugging and singing to your homeboy? That is also not to mention, Mr. Party Animal that you are struggling to hold your pants up as you do it. Pants down. Check. Serenading a dude. Check. Hugging a dude. Check. Tongue down dude's throat..........You get the picture.

Then came Ms. Club Vixen. I am not sure when it became cool to to wear a top that is so tight and low cut that it cuts your nipple in half and makes the top and the visible portion of said nipple bulge and fall over the top. If the DJ says "One of them titties is gone fall out. And I'm gone catch it too"' you shouldn't smile, high five your homegirl and dance harder. Ms. Club Vixen, that is not what's hot in the streets. Then Ms. Club Vixen, why do you wear dresses so short and tight that you have to hold it down to dance? And Ms. Club Vixen, if you know you have no rhythm, then you should just barely move like the rest of the Rhythmless Nation. The Stanky Leg is not for you and it is not a great idea to grind on a wall next to the DJ's booth because he will see you and call you out for getting sexy on yourself with no rhythm. Oh and by the way, your shirt is so tight I can see your belly button.......and the bottom of your belly. And Ms. Club Vixen, it is not cool to throw your legs up on a random stranger and show your girl all of Vicki's Secret just because you want men to notice your sexy. Don't do that, Ms. Club Vixen.

Then we walked outside. There we met Mr. Boy Scout (I have NO idea why this dude could still wear his Boy Scout vest or why he brought it to the club to show his friends), Miss New Booty (I say BRAND new because I ain't never seen nothin' like this before) whose booty was lumpy, bulging and pouring out of her shorts from the back AND the sides and Lady Drunk Slut. Now I call this last one "Lady" in a very joking manner. If you are so wasted that your legs look like the Scarecrow's in The Wizard of Oz (or The Wiz; Do what ya' like) and your man has to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder just to get you to the car which is right across the street, you have had too much. Just a ways down the sidewalk, there was Lady Drunk Slut's next of kin, Intoxicated Ho. I mean, passed out on the bench next to your friend who is just as unconscious and only wearing her bra and jeans? There are two dudes next to you "checking on you" but their faces say one thing- "Smaaaaaaaaaash!" And please believe they will.

Now you all know me. I am way to inquisitive for my own good. I got around to asking a few of them where they were from. I was proud to learn that only two of the eight I "interviewed" were from my state. We met a lot of subjects along our case study club night and it did two things. The first was that it made us both glad we grew up and then it answered the age-old question of "Wheredeydodatat?"