As you may or may not know, folks of the internet, I like to analyze things, talk shit, and crack jokes. One of my favorite folks, Summer M., is quite adept at all three of these things. Her blog, My Best Friend Gayle, is a gem. I’m going to link my favorites of her more recent posts.
First off, this list of 25 lessons learned from watching Oprah. My favorite? Number three: “Everything Pras Michel knows about attaching himself to far more talented people and benefiting financially, he learned from Gayle King.” I laughed, I cried, I wished that I’d written it my damn self.
Next up, Summer’s post written on what would have been Michael Jackson’s 52nd birthday is not only a wonderful commentary on how to celebrate MJJ (tarring and feathering Joe Jackson’s raggedy ass sounds great to me), but it reminds my usually fist-in-the-air self that there is only one official black people holiday in the US. I’d be all for having the day off and doing an enormous “Beat It” reenactment in the park, going to a Michael Jackson Day sale at Old Navy, and even dealing with my pain in the ass relatives for MJ Day dinner (though that’d soon die out, as my fave MJ activities include dancing w/ my friend Bill, singing “Another Part of Me” at karaoke, and watching Moonwalker).
And then, there’s the Montana Fishburne post. So brilliant. So fucking awesome. So . . . what I woulda written if I weren’t wasting my potential blog posts on the Twitter. Because I’m a fan of having a soapbox, and folks will read and/ or tweet even from the toilet. Ain’t nobody getting into my long winded, high horsey, SAT-vocabulary-peppered posts while in a staff meeting. Or maybe y’all are. Nobody ever tells me.
Finally, the BET Awards post best chronicles the beyond witty commentary that keeps me in stitches when I read Summer’s posts on Twitter. God, I loooooooooove it! She said Debra Lee eats puppies. Ha HA!
Summer is a great writer, a hilarious thinker, and a deep lover of LaFace Records. How could I not appreciate her?
(Bonus post: a nice place where we can put our NAACP member relatives, neighbors, and former fifth grade teachers out to pasture when they get mad at the wrong shit.)