KING JAMES VERSION

I’m almost sick over last night's disaster…oh; you guys probably thought I was talking about the Bible…not this time. I’m talking about the OTHER King James – L’B J (I think you know by now). I mean, I’m more of a football fan but I LOVE THAT MAN! He is truly the KING of the court – amazing happens where he is! Ok, that’s enough praise for now; let’s get down to the real issue.

WHY on God’s green earth does everyone else on the team get a ga-million dollar check every week if they don’t want to perform in the PLAYOFFS?!?!?! I mean, riddle me this; they are supposed to be the elite basketball players…which is how they made it into the NBA yeah, I’m sure there are thousands of street balla’s doing the darn thing, but they’re not getting paid the big bucks. These Cavalier co-stars have been acting like they’re playing a charity game against a handicap girlscout squad.

If L BOOGIE (not Lauren Hill) can throw down an average of 40 points per game, then DAMMIT these cats can pick up the slack. If all they want to do is cheer when King James scores they might as well move back a couple rows and call themselves fans…since they’re already wearing jerseys.

I read an article in which LB said “I know I’m ready” (in reference to the remaining playoff games). Clearly, he’s singled himself wayyyyy apart from his fans…I mean, teammates. I’m no sports journalist or commentator, just a woman with eyes and what I’ve seen is Mr. James working his big-pretty-black butt off with little to no help and it’s just not fair…I wish I could help him, but I’d only offer him something to lean on (lol).

I know the poor baby is frustrated and tired and just wants his mama (lol – I’m laughing at my secret thoughts). I’m sure he’s read those guys the riot act, especially since he’s been the king of the court for years and has yet to win the championship. I think I can pretty-much pick up what I think he’s putt’n down, but I’d still like to hear the King James version, maybe over a glass of wine and dinner…maybe…maybe!

Ova The Hill?

CRUSHED:

I met this guy about two years ago at a networking event and was completely enamored by him on sight. I mean, when my eyes fixed on him, my lips wanted to kiss him and my mind called him my “new boyfriend!” Anyway, turns out he was married; we exchanged business contact info, engaged in some idle chatter and got out of each others face (before a problem arose).

I saw him waiting for the train the other morning and because I didn’t like my hair – nor my shoes – and my nails needed a fresh coat – and my mood was tired, I positioned myself behind a pillar, out of his view…yes, I hid!

Man, he looked even better than when I first met him. I laughed at myself (once I was tucked safely away in another car). I sat smiling on the inside and thinking…I’m too old for this shyte!

POLE DANCING:

My girl-crew and I decided to have a social night on the town a couple weeks ago; my best friend suggested pole dancing, so that’s where the eight of us headed. We were psyched and full of red wine…this was going to be the best girl’s night ever.

There were about ten other women in the spot, including the instructors (aka strippers – sike). The disco lights and music set the atmosphere to HO, the wine had me at SUPER-HO and I was ready to get my pole on…or should I say “get my – on the pole.”

I swirled and twirled and strutted and switched, until the instructor (stripper – lol) said she didn’t like how I was moving – she said I needed more “umph” in my sway. I went on at my best for about another half hour, slowly realizing that the hope of supplementing my income as a part-time private dancer was dissipating, almost as fast as I fell slid down that pole.

About ten minutes before the music stopped, I’d decided I had enough humiliation for one evening and changed out of my stripper gear; knocked off the last of the wine as I sat wondering why my right arm felt swollen… I soothed my bruised ego with the affirmation that I’m just too old for this shyte!

Where Were You...

...on the GREATEST day America has ever seen?

I started my November 4th off running around doing pretty much nothing, but by 5pm, I was glued to NBC watching things unfold. I watched and waited and watched again as every state was counted. I had plans to attend a release party for Two One Five Magazine, which was being held at a swank new bowling ally, but the party didn't start until 9:00 so I kept the anticipation down with booze (lol...just kidding), but I was on edge.

By 8:00 pm I was restless, nervous, scared, anxious, and confused as to WHY anyone had voted for John McCain (sorry), but I was exuberant and ready to go. All dressed up in blue jeans, long sleeve tan shirt covered by my "THE PRESIDENT AND FIRST LADY" (OBAMA) tee; I topped things off with a brown fedora and bottomed out in some green sweater boots (you guys getting the picture). I was full of color.

My girlfriend picked me up about 9:15 and we headed to the bowling alley. The place was jammed packed with a plethora of political guru's (in their own right). The place had a real urban/artsy feel with a bunch of 'Will-I-Am' types running around and unsurprisingly, every race and culture was present.

I sat, eat, drank, texted and laughed UNTIL the moment came when Barack Obama was declared the 44th President of the United States. The room burst into tears and cheers with a few jeers (there were some McCain folks in the house- who instantly grabbed their checks and bounced).

I still can't believe it's real, but I'll never forget that moment; where were you when change came to America? (seriously, I want to know where you guys were and what you were doing)

THIS IS IT!!!!!

GO BARAK YOUR VOTE! I pray democracy prevails over the evil intent of the cheat'n repubs. I was in a store this morning and overheard the cashier (a black woman around 50), tell another co-worker that she was still UNDECIDED!!!! I really could'nt understand what she was saying; not because she was a 50 year-old BLACK WOMAN, but it's ELECTION DAY, how the frig are you STILL undecided??? I mean REALLY!

I watched the Saturday Night Live special last night and OMG- it was the BEST. I used to think they were just serious Obama supporters since they always seemed to bash the republican party, but then I realized they're just going with the easier, more obvious target - I mean, it's only natural...since it's a COMEDY show. Here's a clip:




I'M SURE I DON'T HAVE TO SAY - GET OUT AND VOTE, BUT MAKE SURE YOU PRAY FOR A BIG 'O' VICTORY!!!

GO PHILLIES

GOOOOOOOO PHILLIES!!!! As you all know...WE WON THE WORLD SERIES!!!!!! The town has been painted red for WEEKS now, but I'm GREEN with envy (lil Eagles humor). Seriously, I REALLY hope this win has charged my birds- to a victory. I'm not a baseball fan, but it's hella exciting having this victory for my city.

As would be imagined; there's a HUGE parade going on today, culminating in a rally at Citizens Bank Park it's going to be completely CRAZY. Here's a couple pics for you guys to be envy...lol.

HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND - GO EAGLES!!!!!

1964 AND MORE!

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America – America – Oh beautiful for spacious skies – America – America! It’s been a long time coming, but change is on its way, but first we’ll be making a stop in Mississippi.

During the early 50’s election officials sought to keep blacks from voting mainly by incorporating fear amongst the people – fear of being beaten, or killed; fear of losing their jobs or land; fear of having their rents doubled even the fear of not having any food. During the winter of 1962, LeFlore County, Mississippi, cut off the government food surplus program; a major dependence for the counties poor blacks. Fear had stricken the black community; paralyzing progress as democracy retreated; fear was raping southern blacks of their right to vote.

By the mid-60’s, State legislatures became a little more crafty; they incorporated laws requiring voters to pay poll taxes, interpret sections of the State Constitution and used literacy test as a main qualifier to obtain voting privileges. Injustice reared its ugly hear, Voter Education Program (1961) was almost becoming futile as it’s hard to educate once fear takes over.

The voting process proved grave, literally as participants were threatened, jailed, beaten and killed. A call for change was made and answered by over 1000, mostly white-northern, volunteers. Their mission was to calm the fears, educate, support and register the black, should-be-voters of Mississippi.

Mosquito’s, humidity, fear and anticipation filled the air on June 14, 1964 as volunteers geared up for what would be known as Freedom Summer; a mission to register Black voters in the segregated South. A mission brought forth due to the oppressive; hate motivated scare tactics instituted by southern white citizens.

Racial injustice, threats, scare tactics and mostly white-northern volunteers; that’s what this post is about.

I believe our (America’s ) change is coming in the form of Senator Obama; his principles and priorities have awaken the racism that has lain dormant in most of white America, who in turn seeks to reinstall fear amongst the black community.

Within the last few weeks the city of Philadelphia (and I’m sure all urban cities) has been flooded with misleading deeds-dastardly deeds (lol) – here are a few:
1)If you have a warrant or outstanding tickets, you’re subject to being arrested when you arrive to vote.
2)If your home is under foreclosure you can’t vote.
3)If you wear party/candidate specific items or attire (No Obama S@#%) you will have to leave.
4)If you owe child support
if your hair’s too long; if you wear glasses; if you have a cat; if you eat bagels for breakfast.

Ok, scratch those last few, but you get the point. Oh, there was also a notice going around that said: Due to the height of this Presidential election and the increase in voter registrations, an alternate voting day is being added – If you’re not able to vote on November 4th, you may do so on November 10th (SUCKERS!!) (I added the ‘Suckers’ part).

I was told of this new tacky-tact maneuver by a white woman who from New York, which brings us to that part of this post. As I’ve been actively volunteering with the campaign during my down time from work, I’ve noticed that the majority of the volunteers are white, with a great deal of them coming from other northern-states.

Obama is not the Black people’s candidate, but he’s here for whoever will follow, but black people seem to be the least supportive with their time and money. We’ve got to step it up because most of the fear-tactics have been thrown at our doors like dog-do in a a paper bag. We’ve got to unit to combat these efforts and let them know that we shall NOT be moved- Welcome to the NEW land of the brave – Home of the FREE!!!

...BUT GOD!

Hey you guys. I hope things have been good with everyone. I've been a little down these past couple of months, but God is bringing me back to like; He's breathing into these dry bones of mine, so I know I'll live again.

My uncle, who was living with me for the past 9 months passed away on July 31st. He was 51, but had lived his life in a bottle. There were times when he didn’t have money for booze, so he’d drink rubbing alcohol instead; that monkey on his back needed to be fed.

Oh,the life of an alcoholic; the bumps and bruises; the cuts and scars…internal and external. My uncle was a DIE-HARD-HOLIC! He lived (for the funk, die for the funk – sorry), but he loved him some liquor and his mother loved her some him. My uncle was my grandmother’s baby-boy. He wasn’t the youngest child, but the youngest son and the neediest. He was spoiled rotten to the core (I’m not speaking ill of the dead, but telling the truth of things). He expected everyone to tolerate his antics, no matter how intolerable; he was a drunk and it wasn’t his fault he loved the booze so much, so he said, so we were expected to grin and bare all of his drama.

He lived with my grandmother all his life, until she decided to move into an independent living home for seniors. He spent a couple of years going from rehab to rehab just to have a place to lay his head when he wasn’t laying it on a street curb. He’d go to visit my grandmother everyday and disturb the entire community, so they banned him from the establishment. My grandmother had enabled him for so long that she owed him the rest of her life.

My uncle’s death was tragic, but expected…my grandmother’s wasn’t. The day after my uncle died my grandmother made herself busy with his funeral arrangements with most of the family in and out of her small apartment. “We need more chicken!” she said to my aunt who was charged with food-shopping for all the visitors. Since I was my grandmother’s favorite grandchild (her words not mine) and since she was my rock, I planned to stay the night with her. With the guest all gone and the phone quiet, she spent the remainder of the evening trying to fix the DVD player (I wanted us to watch a movie and as the favorite, I always got my way).

“You know I don’t let things get the better of me; so I’m not going to bed until this thing is working,” she said as she fiddled a little harder. Ten minutes later the DVD player was working and my grandmother was off to bed. Somewhere in the middle of the night she had a massive stroke and died in the hospital the next day…taking a million pieces of me with her…oh, but God!