I Don’t Know WTF To Write.

But, damn, do I miss it. I miss mind dumping and writing essays and asking questions and cracking jokes. I miss dissecting bullshit arguments and linking to the people I find rather brilliant.

I miss blogging.

And I’m slowly coming back to it.

Advertisements

The Best of the Internet: My Best Friend Gayle

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.)

a few quick notes about no wedding, no womb

i wrote it on tumblr, but for those of you who don’t read me there, i thought it’d be a good idea to share my beliefs on this quote-unquote movement here. (google the whole thing, i’m not giving them any linkage)

because i tweeted it but didn’t blog it:

the whole quote-unquote movement is gender essentialist. point blank. period.

the finger wagging and shaming aside, this initiative seeks to push all MAAB (male assigned at birth) and FAAB (female assigned at birth) persons to marry one another, regardless of being self-identified as trans, or being gay or lesbian self-identified.

because of the illegality, in most states, of what’s called same-sex marriage, this initiative cannot include cisgender gay, lesbian, or bisexual (or pan or omnisexual) ppl or any trans-identified people. by its own definition, no less.

monogamy is not the default setting for all humans. it is a choice. compulsory monogamy and heterosexuality encroach on the rights of an individual to do what they wish with their bodies.

furthermore, there has been little to no discussion by the NWNW folks regarding causations of single parenthood & correlations between single motherhood & the catastrophic outcomes they seem to think are rampant in the black community.

encouraging anyone to marry for the sake of a child is dangerous. ask any one of my friends who has lived through a domestic violence situation, either as the scarred child or as the abused spouse.

& if i say shit else about this, it’ll be because someone on team finger wag has come at my neck w/ some bullshit.

it’s hot.

i said i was gonna blog more here. it hasn’t happened.
but i have a purty new theme!
& i finally started working on my links page.

i’m in flux.
my life is changing.
i am evolving, etc.

in other news: my food blog will go live soon, as a dot-net. and that means everyone can get them a piece of the dream.
or something.
i’m rambling.
crushes still suck.
if you know where i am, find me on tumblr.

crushes suck.

so do broken laptops.
but i added wordpress to my blackberry, so… y’all can prepare for some intensive blogging foolishness.

blips of knowledge, the way i see it.

(because twitter has more or less ruined my ability to write full paragraphs unless i’m absolutely livid, i write in blips now. lord help.)

– broken ppl make broken homes. not divorces. not single parenting, or non-cohabitative coparenting.  broken ppl.

– maybe you can’t stop cheating on your partner cuz you never wanted to be monogamous to begin with.  & maybe you’re afraid to speak up. that’s nobody’s issue but yours.

– if you have babies w/ someone & don’t wanna fuck w/ them anymore, make sure your breakup is from them & not the kids. (raise your hand if you’ve had or presently suffer from the absentee parent blues & love that absentee parent but can’t fuck w/ em.)

– the reason i’m not laughing is because that shit isn’t the fuck funny. do better.

– to my fellas: if you’re that worried about kids being used as a ploy to get your money, put on a condom or get a reversible vasectomy. go half on her IUD, pills, or patch. shut your bitch ass the fuck up. (this one is a paraphrasing of something that fiqah said to me today.)

– to my ladies: motherhood is not the default. neither is monogamy. if you aren’t sure, make sure you wrap that shit up, b. please. cuz the fallout is not worth your sanity. the default breakup setting as of late seems to involve (exclusively) the leaving of mama holding the bag. not okay. not okay for you, for the kid(s).

– sometimes, the asshole is the person you like better. just watch yourself. don’t be surprised if/ when they do some asshole shit.

– grief is a motherfucker. when guilt rides its back, you’re in trouble.

– issues of race don’t ever boil down specifically to black versus white. they don’t. because black and white aren’t the only races. next!

– motherfuckers get really scared when you take your power, reclaim your space, and clean house. let them.

too caffeinated to sleep

& i don’t want to blog.
i feel like ppl are reading this blog who have no idea what it means (meant?) to me when i most need(ed) an outlet.
i feel like i’m censoring myself,
silencing myself so i don’t step on anyone’s hypersensitive, bitchmade, i’m-gonna-cry-wolf toes.
well.
that most certainly felt better than holding it in. there, i’ve said it: there are folks who subscribe to rss feeds of this very slice of interwebs who’d rather pick fights than love themselves
who’d rather assume the mantle of victimhood than fashion themselves into survivors
& who always think someone’s out to fucking get them simply by disagreeing w/ them. stupid, i know.
& even more stupid: i let that shit hold me back.
so.
gloves are off.
sensitive thugs, y’all all need hugs.
but don’t come the fuck over here with it.
yay, i made a cryptic blog post. fiqah, are you happy now? :-P it’s a post. it is. even if it’s only significant to ME. bit by bit, i’m coming back.

Previous Older Entries