fronting: an undoing.

peeling off, peeling out, laying the dumb shit to the side.
seeing myself, wholly, in bright light
not allowing myself to be lost in the crevices between what he says, what she says
slipping through cracks that seem more like caverns
i am no longer willing to be held hostage by image or ego, whether mine or someone else’s
coming undone has never been so dope, and i love how it feels
i have started to embrace la loba within.
and for the first time, in a long time, i don’t feel the overwhelming urge to tattoo or pierce, to cut my hair or get my eyebrows waxed.
i’m fine how i am, where i am
because i’m meant to just do what i do
there’s nothing to stop me
no one to slow me down

the only one in the way of this is me. and i’ve decided to move on over.

the case for cuddlejawns.

(before we begin: a cuddlejawn is just what it sounds like. a jawn with whom you cuddle. i’m from philly. sue me.)

1) cuddling is good for the environment!
if you’re cuddling (fully clothed, nude, partially clothed, socks only) with another grown person, chances are that a considerable amount of body heat will be generated. you and your cuddlejawn will save money on energy bills! radiator on the fritz? call your cuddlejawn. afraid of your gas bill? holla at your girl/ boy. don’t feel like playing with that space heater? pick up the phone! get a blanket, and you just might set the night on fire! rawr.

2) cuddling is good for your self-esteem.
because, you see, that 10 lbs you’re still tryna shake won’t have to come off. that extra body on your body needs cushioning! knowing that you’re divine just the way you are will do wonders for you, dear heart. it gives your cuddlejawn an even stronger reason to keep coming back for more of your good old boolovin!

3) you get to show off your extensive knowledge of foods/ beverages.
everyone knows that there’s nothing better than a good plate of tasty morsels or a glass of something fly AND arms that warmly await you. and if the mutually agreed-upon cuddlejawn arrangement is going well i believe that food items will keep things going along swimmingly. besides, who the hell wants to be the trifling motherfucker who invites people over and never feeds or attempts to hydrate them? especially a cuddlejawn? show your gratitude by making sure there are yummy and new snacks.

4) this arrangement may be one of the healthiest relationships you ever have.
so many of us go into situations with others hoping against hope that s/he doesn’t turn out to be crazy/ clingy/ unreasonable/ looking for a husband/ looking for a wife/ looking for a parental figure . . . without making sure that everyone’s pretty much on the same page from the onset. so, with your cuddle jawn arrangement being essentially about cuddling and not sexual intercourse (not at first. where it goes next is your business.), i daresay it’s impossible to get caught up in a snare of emotional bullshit. sex might complicate things for some of us, while for others it brings clarity. your job as a cuddlejawn is to be precisely what your cuddlejawn needs. that means everyone gets their needs met within the parameters of the arrangement. no hurt feelings. who doesn’t want to be held without the pressure of a bunch of shit that has little to nothing to do with them? think on it.

5) boolovin might save us from ourselves.
you ever encounter a motherfucker who quite clearly needs a hug and/ or some kind words? don’t you ever think that they should get that hug? those kind words? something to help them feel less miserable and stabby? i bet if they had a cuddlejawn they’d be at least tolerable. yupper. watch, y’all, and see! the boolovin might make you think twice about slappin the fuck out of your coworker. it may make you more alert during the work day. i mean, there are studies done on infants who are touched lovingly/ receive infant massage that suggest that these kids grow up smarter than those who are touched only when it’s necessary (or whatever the control is). i say go for it. who doesn’t wanna be loved upon more often?

and, i’d also like to suggest that cuddling may lead to some very rewarding, fulfilling adult interactions. this is the foreplay of life.
go find you a cuddlejawn!

this post has been brought to you by buckwild apiaries, inc., purveyors of honey love and boolovin.

operation: benetton ad.

you see, lovely blog readers, your protagonist has a bit of an issue.

i haven’t had sex in a while, and really good sex (also known as having my back blown out) is such a distant memory that i’ve got a better chance of recalling my life in utero than recounting any details of sexual exploits. so, in what i’ll call my months of solitude, i’ve had the opportunity to think really hard about what i want when i get back out there. i’ve pined away over my usual celebrity eye candy (mos def, chiwetel ejiofor, christian bale, don cheadle, q-tip, et al) and had a few moments to reminisce on past crushes/ eye candy (one time for marvin from trader joe’s and that fine-as-all-fucking-getout dude who used to ride the same train i did a few yrs back). but what i haven’t actively had was some kind of glimmer of hope. anyone who’s really legitimately a potential boo for me. crushes and eye candy won’t do. going back to former paramours won’t work — if they were what i wanted, they would not be formers! instead, i need something new, something fresh . . .

enter operation: benetton ad.
it all started w/ the idea i’ve been kicking around for quite some time: the concept that i should possess a stable of he-bitches of all colors, shapes, and sizes. i mean, why not? i can’t seem to get precisely what i want in one place, so why not split it up? go on foreign film dates w/ my art nerd, hit happy hour with the lush, cuddle up next to the around-the corner boo, have the sponsor get me that dress i want, and quite possibly have one strong backed strapping individual to have me grinning consistently whilst walking crookedly.

well, lo and behold, the warm winds of late spring and summer have blown a lot of newness my way. first, there was that lovely piece of curly haired extra gorgeous southerner, in town for a conference. swarthy, as white folk tend to say. mmm, mmm, mmm. he has a girlfriend and lives far away from philly, so i’ll leave him where he is. until/ unless there’s a reason not to.
second, there was the lite brite (translation: he looks like christopher williams might could be his daddy) from the starbucks near my job. i think he might be slow. but he’s nice to look at. eye candy is important. there’s a young asian man whose family owns the nail salon i go to. he is SO PRETTY. and a youngin. he’s legal, though. seems to be unreasonably interested in the things i use to adorn myself (earrings, bangles, sneakers, nail polish colors). i like him, though, and wouldn’t mind sitting on my sofa w/ him while he paints my toenails. there’s a chicano in the mix, too. he seems to be focused on marrying me and figuring out how on earth my spanish is as good as it is. he makes me laugh. sometimes. the language barrier is interesting.

and then.
lawdy JEEZUS.

today, i met a fine ass barber who gave me his card and said he’d cut my hair tomorrow . . . LORDY BE, I CAN’T TAKE IT.
he’s covered in tattoos. amateurish ones that scream “i’ve been into some bad shit in my life,” and he has the unmitigated gall to smell good. lord help me!
he is, in the words of my beloved uncle, “niggafied.” that’s what he calls any non-black person w/ the most black american swagger ever.
i mean, i prefer to just say he’s very much an around the way asian dude
but the swagger
he got that big dick swagger i tend to only see in black men and others who’ve been victimized by the prison industrial complex.

WOOT

*fannin myself*

but yeah.
i’m building myself a stable so i can get what i want until i’ve had my fill. currently, i’m not even close to being done!

U-N-I-T-Y, that’s a unity . . .

addendum: in my infinite wisdom and continual quest for creative ways to express myself, i have decided to regard to the stable of he-bitches as he-bees. that is, i am a he-bee keeper, and i’m going to be maintaining an apiary of dick. buckwild apiary’s mission statement soon come.

labelle is the shit.

evidence:

i mean, most of you who read this blog are already well aware of the levels of gangsta involved.

but in case you were clueless, i figured it important that it be made clear.

why have i been lunchin so hard?

ill doctrine is great. see below:

on alicia keys & paranoia

some of mlk’s other quotables

rappers + steroids = foolishness

i have such a crush on jay smooth, just on the strength. tsk, tsk.

also: go check out gordon gartrell radio, courtesy of dj brainchild and phonte from little brother.

until she puts it up on blogger

i’m sharing with you dear readers a declaration posted by miss oyin on behalf of the buckwild family (just as adorable as the care bears & their cousins, but way more serious). a declaration of war, of sorts, against the kingdom of niggadom. after an experience w/ two of TKON’s most fierce warriors — women i work with, both of whom espouse SO MUCH PRIDE in black folk/ blackness, i felt it necessary to remind myself why i don’t subscribe to that school of “thought.”

Me and some otha membas of the Buckwild family have been chit chattin. We been doin some sharing of stories and some truth tellin and just some general vibin about the stuff that niggas get into.

How they abuse

How they manipulate situations

How they hurt us and themselves

All for The Kingdom of Niggadom!

And how no matter how enlightened a brotha is

At the end of the day

Should he choose to do so

He can lay all that to the side and post up in The Kingdom of Niggadom (TKON)

TKON is a terrorist organization. It is, among other things:

Anti-Freedom

Anti-Woman

Anti-Bliss

Anti-Peace

Anti-Cooperation

Anti-Truth

Anti-Erotic

TKON endorses the wholesale rape and destruction of womanhood. And it offers us either a pornographic cardboard cut out OR a whitewashed passionless virginal caricature to replace that destroyed womanhood. Now this don’t mean that TKON is necessarily physically raping a woman, (tho TKON isn’t above that either) cause TKON can be very subtle in its ways and workings.

TKON will have you to believe that your main purpose in life as a woman is to bear children and be a helpmeet of a nigga. And should you not want to devote your life to bein a helpmeet then something is wrong witchu, or maybe you’re a lesbian or perhaps you done picked up a evil spirit from yo woman friends: “Whatchu mean you dont feel free??? You be sittin up letting them women you hang around wit fill yo head wit all kinda nonsense. You betta watcho self or you wont neva have no manTHEN whatchu gone do? It say in the Bible that a womans place is . . .”

One of TKON’s favorite threats is that you gone end up in Hell, or even worse…old and alone.

TKON will have you to believe that the abuse that it hands out is really somehow all YOUR fault because you are too free, or too pretty, or too nice, or you smile at men too much or you don’t clean house the way that it should be cleaned or on the day that it should be cleaned, or because you don’t worship God the correct way.

TKON doesnt necessarily hit or yell, TKON is highly skilled in the usage of painful snide remarks and public humiliation. TKON will also withhold affection to teach you a lesson/punish you for not acting in accordance with the bylaws of TKON. For example, you may not get kissed hello because the house ain’t as clean as its supposed to be even tho TKON will NOT clean anything or pick up anything because that is womans work.

TKON promotes listening to your boys before you listen to anything that your woman or your mama tries to tell you because all women want to do is get over on you anyway or tie you down. TKON is the origin of the rumor that “she got pregnant on purpose.”

TKON likes the THEORY of a relationship with a woman, but actual intimacy without manipulation of some sort is usually beyond the capabilities of TKON.

TKON ultimately believes that if you don’t agree with it, its because you don’t UNDERSTAND it,

Cause you ain’t deep enough,

You don’t fast enough,

You don’t read enough,

You don’t pray enough,

You don’t watch the right tv shows,

You watch tv,

You wear yo stomach out,

You be temptin’ men

You haven’t read freud or jung

You straight

You gay

You dress too flamboyantly

You don’t own enough white linen

Yo jeans too tight

You got a perm

Yo hair is too nappy

You have locs but you don’t talk to them

Yo diet has too many carbs

Yo diet don’t have enough wheatgrass

You don’t eat no meat

You be burnin’ all that incense

You don’t neva burn no incense

Etc. etc. etc.

When grievances are brought before the court of TKON

1. TKON ignores the entire case because listening and being transformed by what is heard is outside of the capabilities of TKON

2. TKON will flip the entire scenario and make the entire incident/issue out to be some fault of the plaintiff OR circumstances surrounding TKON, because of course TKON is flawless in EVERY way and obviously anyone who doesn’t agree is crazed or should be in therapy or on some kind of medication

3. In very special cases, when TKON has cut to complete craziness and stayed crazy for a long period of time, TKON will institute surface level changes that will cause the plaintiff to believe that he/she has been heard. This keeps TKON in its position of comfort and power, with minimal effort. Note: these changes have a shelf life of 3 days-6 months, however based on our field research, the most common length of time is 2 weeks.

Sistas who have fallen victim to TKON typically react in one of two ways:

1. The denounce TKON and say fuck it and they mean it and they spit on the foundations of TKON.

2. They try to prove to TKON that they are a different kind of woman and therefore worthy of the love, affection, and esteem that TKON has on reserve for that perfect woman/queen.

I am a category 1 up in this piece. I say FUCK IT!

I SPIT on the FOUNDATIONS of TKON

LET THAT SHIT CRUMBLE!!!

I will get me a sign and picket outside the gates of that muthafucka

I am SICK and goddammit TIRED of NIGGAS WINNIN

I am TIRED of NIGGAS not bein held accountable for their actions

I am tired of Niggasebein put up on pedestals cause we scared of how they gone act if we worship at our own shrine instead of theirs

FUCK that shit

I am shootin TKON in the stomach and blowin air in the hole

I am breakin TKON’s fingers and wigglin em til he pass out or die of a heartattack

I ain’t keepin TKON’s secrets NO MORE

On THIS day in MY NAME, by the power of my womb, the power that I use to create the life that I love, I withdraw my ASE from The Kingdom of Niggadom

I am exitin’ stage left and takin’ up residence in The Town of Women

And I got my yam pounder cocked and ready for any muthafucka who feelin squirrely

When the men are ready

we can move to a new place.

But from now until the time that the dust settles on the destruction

I will shake my red tailfeathers in the general direction of TKON

And I will chant that shit down like they be chantin down Babylon

Num Yo Ho, No Mo Niggas Winnin © Beauchamp de Leau & Sugarlee Buckwild

I cordially invite all like minded persons (women in particular) to chant that shit down WITH me.

***Babylonian Sidebar***

we need to find us another name for Babylon cause in ancient times the chief problem that folks had with Babylon was the freeness of the women so I’m actually a Babylon SUPPORTER.

in the name of all that is on point & wonderful in the universe, i wholeheartedly second, third, fourth, and umpteenth that. shit.

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