The Reason [I Suspect] As to Why I Haven't Gotten My Security Deposit Back

As you may recall, my former landlord is an incompetent jerk. You remember that time he acted a fool when my rent check got lost in the mail and that other time when I gave him 30 days written and verbal notice that I was vacating my apartment (per the terms of my month to month lease and in compliance with California state law) and he acted like he had a problem with that? This is the man that often took forever to make repairs, dragged his feet about scheduling time to do a final walk through of my apartment once I'd moved out, and finally, showed up 45 minutes after the mutually agreed upon time. Well, it's been over six months since I moved out, and (SURPRISE!) this fool hasn't returned my security deposit to me.

According to California state law, a landlord must return a tenant's security deposit in full within 21 days of the last day of occupancy. Typically, that 21 day countdown starts on the day of the final walk through. If the landlord is withholding any part of the security deposit, he or she must notify the former tenant in writing with an itemized list of deductions. So, if you kicked a hole in the wall or stole a light fixture, your landlord would have to send you something that basically says, "I'm deducting such and such amount for the repair of the thingamajig." In my case, the apartment was in excellent condition and thoroughly cleaned. Of course it showed of a reasonable amount of wear and tear which is understandable with 3 years of occupancy. However it didn't need much done to it in preparation for the next tenant. Perhaps a coat of paint.

I had paid my final rent, trusting that despite his shoddy track record, he would do the right thing and pay what he owed in a reasonable amount of time. But, as R. Kelly so eloquently stated, "Haters gon' hate. Ballers gon' ball," and true to his character, my landlord did not do the correct and proper thing. I wrote him a nice email, as a reminder that he owed me some good money. No response. This is the point at which I started calling him. And of course, he participated in shade and didn't answer his phone. He didn't respond to my messages. He was a sucka emcee. But I really want to call him something else. But I won't, 'cause my Mama raised me right.

One day, my fiance called him and cursed him out. I think he did it in Spanish. My landlord called me, damn near crying (like a little bi-- Oh... I said I wouldn't call him somethin' else. Nevermind). He was a fountain of excuses. He was offended that I would take such measures and almost went as far as to say that my fiance doesn't know his life. I told him, "Listen. That's the man I'm marrying and currently residing under the same roof with. It is absolutely his business. He doesn't have to know your life. You owe me. So, you owe us. Cough up the dinero, compadre." And then he started with the promises to pay. "Just give me some time," he said. That was back in June.

So, now I have to sue him.

Really, ain't nobody got time for that. But, I have to do what I have to do, mostly out of principal. I've been living without that money for a long time and [thankfully] I hadn't hinged any dreams on it or made any plans for it. That money would be extra. But the point is that its MINES. Not his. So, now I gotta take attention away from things that I want to do to go deal with some foolishness that I shouldn't have to. Such is life.

Here's the thing though. I have a theory as to why he "hasn't been able" to return my security deposit to me. Remember that one time last summer when Ashley Catharine McGinty (also known as "That Girl") came to stay in my spare bedroom and proceeded to make messes and not clean up after herself, try not to pay rent, and finally not return my house key to me once she left? Well, about a week after I had moved out of that apartment, I stopped by the premises to check and see if there were any random pieces of mail for me that may have been mis-delivered to the old address... And I saw that someone had already taken up residence in my old apartment. Hmmm.

This struck me as strange since, as far as I knew, my old landlord had not advertised the apartment as vacant and it was still the middle of the month. Surely, at that point, he hadn't had any time to prep the apartment for a new tenant. For someone to be occupying the place within a week was just...

Hey. I suspect that That Girl (who, as far as we know, still has my keys), let herself into the vacant apartment  once the coast was clear and took up residence. Listen. Stranger things have happened. And with a squatter in the unit [and California laws regarding tenancy being what they are] there would be no way to swiftly order an eviction, physically remove the unwanted occupant, and rent it out to a new tenant. Therefore there would be no way to obtain a new security deposit or collect any rent... And maybe no way to return my deposit to me. With his broke behind. I'm just sayin'.

As you can see [and probably already knew], my life is full of the finest foolery. Now, excuse me while I go write a check to Southern California Edison in the amount of $.57. Good day.

Not Buying What You Sellin': The Curious Case of Chavis Carter

Back in the All We Care About is Chick-Fil-A days, I briefly mentioned an incident in which a 21 year old black man by the name of Chavis Carter turned up dead after a run in with the Jonesboro police in Arkansas. After a routine traffic stop and a search, Carter was handcuffed and placed in the back of the squad car. According to officers at the scene, they heard a thumping noise, turned around, and saw the young man dead in the back of the car, where they had placed him. Cause of death: bullet wound to the head.

Supposedly, Chavis had "pulled out a hidden gun and shot himself". With his hands cuffed behind his back. Yeah. Okay.

We're supposed to believe that the officer that searched Chavis missed an entire gun. And this alleged gun was so inconspicuous, that an experienced, trained officer wasn't able to detect it, however, it was accessible enough that a person with their hands cuffed behind their back could quickly retrieve it from it's hiding place and shoot themselves in the head, with no assistance.

Listen, I may have been born yesterday, but it was early in the day. Jonesboro PD needs to stop it with their lies, fallacies, and fairy tales.

Oh, but they won't. Now, they've created a video to demonstrate how an individual could magically produce a gun and absolutely manage to off themselves with their hands behind their back.

See how far wicked folks will go to persist in evil? They're out here making videos. Who even has time for that? They need to exit, stage left with that garbage.

Based on the re-telling of events, Chavis Carter is some sort of magical negro and apparently, this video is the proof. Because, clearly, a Black man mysteriously dying while in police custody doesn't happen, and if it does, sorcery is likely to blame. Chavis' mother is quoted as saying, "...My son wasn't suicidal." I'm sure she would also argue that her son is not a wizard.

Oh, and did I mention that Chavis was left handed? Why wasn't that reflected in the video? To me, the omission of that very important bit of information in this "demonstration" is further proof that these folks are not interested in telling the truth or enlightening the public. This is some bullshit propaganda, meant to satiate those who doubt their story and quell the community's cries for justice.

Nice try Jonesboro PD. We don't believe you. In the words of Jay-Z, "You need more people". However, even if you had them, I would quickly dismiss your supporters as murderous liars who use race to justify use of excessive force.

Yule Get Drop Kicked

There are a significant number of reasons as to why this situation that is happening on my desk at work is just wrong. Look, I love Jesus more than just as much as you do, but that's no reason to put a fake candy cane in a red vase on my desk. See, this is the [main] problem I have with Christmas decorations. Rarely are they ever well done, understated, or elegant. At best, they're kitschy, and at worst... They're awful, ugly, eye sores. Jesus wept.

Listen, I'm just tryin' to work here. However, at times it's a struggle with this distracting ass twig with random ball configuration directly in my line of sight. There has to be an ordinance or code under some obscure labor law that will allow me to sue my employer for subjecting me to this foolishness.

I SHOULDA HAD AN ABORTION: Tha Year in Review

2009 took it's sweet time gettin' on up outta here, didn't it? Well, I'm glad that bitch is gone, cause we 'bout to get it in in 2010! *giggles*

And apparently, that's exactly what I been doin', cause here we are, a week into tha year, and I'm just now doin' a blog entry. Shameful, really, but whatever. I got a life, people! And furthermore, you gotta understand that I gotta take time out between entries to replenish my reservoir of foolishness. That's how you get tha very best fuckery from me... but I digress...



Despite some tragedies and scandals, I guess tha past year wasn't really bad at all, especially on a personal tip. I kept myself a job, wrote some poems n' thangs, continued to Boom on these hoes (while simultaneously stunting. That shit ain't easy!), and generally lived my life like it was golden. Highlights of tha year included my friend Tamara's wedding, celebrating Naomi's 10th Birthday at tha Mos Def and Erykah Badu show on Labor Day Weekend, and in October, marking tha one year anniversary of my marriage to my apartment.

So, this is like tha best story about my husband -- I mean, my apartment... It was Halloween of 2008. I had been in my place for all of 31 days and my brother, Chas was here. I have a front and a back door and of course, my back door is in my kitchen (well, not really "of course"... I mean, I guess it could be somewhere else... but traditionally, that's where back doors are.) My desk and computer and whole work station area is also in my kitchen, so inevitably, that's where I spend most of my time. We had been having a bit of a heat wave (or is that really just normal for L.A in October? *confused face*), so all of tha windows and my back door was open and Chas and I were sitting in tha kitchen talking and then, all of a sudden, we hear this woman GOING OFF.

She was sobbing and yelling and just actin' an all around fool. I imagine she prolly rolled around on tha floor at some point, that's how much she was cuttin' up. Well, apparently, she was "arguing" with her man (I put that in quotation marks, cause really it takes two people to argue and we never heard him say anything). She was like, "YOU DON'T LOVE MEEEEEEEEE!!!! YOU NEVER LOVED ME!!!" and of course, Chas and I, bein' tha maniacs that we are, turned down tha music and went over to tha window and back door so we could really hear all tha juicy mess. So, she's goin' on and on and on, just actin a muthafuckin' fool, and then she was like, "I SHOULDA HAD AN ABORTIOOOOOOOON! I SHOULDA HAD AN ABORTIOOOOOON! [insert inaudible sobs here]"

Chas and I looked at each other like "OH SHIT!"

Bwahahahahahahaahahahahahaha!

Forreal, lady? Is that whut you shoulda done? Wow.

I certainly hope tha child she "should've aborted" was a little baby and didn't know what was goin' on and not like 17 in tha other room on tha PS3, like "Whut tha fuck???"

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

So, now that's our inside joke. When some shit don't go tha way we want it to or we're just generally unhappy, we throw our heads back like tha characters in Charlie Brown, fake sob, and shout, "I SHOULDA HAD AN ABORTION!" It's fun for tha whole family.



That story had absolutely nothing to do with tha New Year or anything else for that matter... I just felt like sharing.

Broadcasting Live from Crazy Town

Tha following is a conversation that I've been having with a guy that I've seen around town before, but honestly don't know. Before we get into this good ole buffoonery, there are a few things you need to be made aware of:

1. Yes, I'm bestowing him with tha dishonorable Nigga Please Award.

2. When I originally saw that this seemingly innocent back and forth was quickly spiraling into shinanigans, I decided that it would merrit a blog post. My original intention was to remove tha trouble-maker's name to protect his identity and to fulfill my commitment to not being a complete asshole at all times... but he cut up so bad, that I figured I'd be doing tha general public a great service by including his name.

3. Despite how much he denies it, he did indeed try to holler at my homegirl, Reke. This fool invited her over for breakfast and wine. Yes, please and thank you... Wine. But he wasn't tryin' to holler? C'mon, son.

4. On more than one occasion, I could feel tha undeniable essence of Mimi Plastique creep on up in my spirit.

5. If I have to ask this man (gotdamn politely) to refrain from talking to me one more time, we gon' have some problems.

And now for tha monkey business...


Anthony Okwudiri Ehirim December 22 at 4:09pm
I remember meeting you at Leimert Park, my buddy stepped on your toe. I tried to nurse the pain by pouring some cold water on it. Hope your toe is fine..I remember saying to myself i hope i see her again...respect.

Nikki BLAK December 23 at 1:47pm
Funny, I don't remember that. Hey, didn't you recently try to holler at my friend, Reke?

Anthony Okwudiri Ehirim December 23 at 2:54pm
No..she hollered at me..i don't holler at woman. I told her lets be friends, i don't think she wanted that. I'm too fine to holler at women meaning i've never had to. I have a waiting list now. So if she told you i tried to holler at her she's a liar. However i do like to uplift and empower people who seem to be in rough situations like Reke would portray.

I think we live in times of instant gratification, people want things right away. I choose to build connections with people. Strengthen my cypher by having positive influences around me. Sex is too boring without a connection or friendship...

In ur case i may be mistaken, don't you have a daughter? You were at Leimert for some venue in the theatre and my buddy stepped on ur big toe..either way its fine if you don't remember.

Bless you and Reke..

Nikki BLAK December 23 at 4:08pm
Wow, that was a WHOLE LOTTA response. LMBAO @ "I'm too fine to holler at women".

*rolls around on tha floor, laughing*

WOWZERS. I don't think you're even her type, so I doubt it was her trying to holler at you... and while we're on tha subject of my good friend since I was 15, how do you think I feel about you, now that you've called my sister a liar? Trust, that's not how to get on my good side. No, I don't have a daughter, no I still don't remember our interaction, and honestly, at this point, I'm not at all interested. Reke and I are both very blessed, thank you. Be well.

Anthony Okwudiri Ehirim December 23 at 4:28pm
Oh i'm sorry then, well i thought it was you. Someone is walking around looking just like you. And my goal was not to holler at you either Nikki..i just appreciate beauty and like to show love and thought your facebook comment was cute. And no i didn't call her a liar luv, believe me if i was hollering i'd be more aggressive. I'm spoilt and usually get what i want.

I think Reke is beautiful and have nuthin bad to say bout her. After she mentioned that all she has to hold at night is a scruffy dog i felt like a woman so beautiful should have good people around her. Which she prob does. Ask her what went down, i wanted to see what her world was like. Its all love Nikki...

Sorry bout the mix up, i love beautiful people and positive energy and love to enjoy my life. Take care

Anthony Okwudiri Ehirim December 23 at 4:29pm
Dang u guys are sisters..you are both beautiful. Peace.

Anthony Okwudiri Ehirim December 24 at 3:42am
Nobody was trying to get on your good side lady. But i guess both you and Reke are free to flatter yourselves.

Nikki BLAK December 24 at 9:00am
Talking, talking, talking. Why are you STILL talking? Please stop.

Anthony Okwudiri Ehirim December 24 at 9:03am
lol..just clearing any misconceptions. Peace.

Nikki BLAK December 24 at 9:18am
Tha only misconceptions are tha ones that you created and continue to perpetuate with your incessant yapping about something, that frankly, nobody really cares about. I asked you a simple "yes" or "no" question, that you really could've just responded to and went on with tha rest of tha conversation. But instead, here we are, a billion messages later. This is stupid. Tha truth needs no proof. If it ain't so, just say so and move on without tha name calling, double talk, back and forth, and carrying on. I'm shocked at your reaction... it's as if I accused you of stealing, or beating my friend down in tha street. If you hollered, you hav a right to as a grown, single, heterosexual man. If you didn't, fine. I. Don't. Care. Ugh. This has been an extremely immature and WEIRD interaction, however, very telling of character, and for that, I'm thankful. It's good to kno, for future reference.

Anthony Okwudiri Ehirim December 24 at 11:18am
I was just a bit shocked..and it came out of nowhere???????????? I came at you with love so i'm not sure why u attacking me. I answer the way i want to answer not the way someone else wants me to answer. Everyone is different, if it takes me three pages so be it. Of course i would react to someone bullshitting about me. I'm jewelzdagod please do some research i make sure i walk the truth.. u commin at me really crazy for someone who just said you were beautiful. But its my fault i thought you were someone else, it is what it is. Take care.

Nikki BLAK December 24 at 11:27am
Sorry, there's no need for me to "research" anything... I have personal experience. Didn't know when I responded to your random, unsolicited message and asked you a harmless question that I would be getting a one way ticket to Crazy Town. Let me off this train. You can stop talking now. Thank you.

Anthony Okwudiri Ehirim December 24 at 11:34am
I'm sorry, god bless you and your right i hit u up unsolicited and you don't know me. Forgive me i really did think you were someone else. Thats why i aske d about your toe..

Anthony Okwudiri Ehirim December 24 at 11:46am
Hey so now that we're acquainted we can b friends, crazytown is [fun]. I'll get you a round trip, lol.I was a bit startled at ur harmless question. I'm harmless too ok. I love you...

Yes, yes, ya'll he did indeed just say he loves me. SECURITY!!!

Swine Flu

Let's talk about this recent outbreak of whut I like to call "Swine Flu". These Pigs have been out of control lately. First, while walking through my neighborhood at about 11:30 pm on Saturday night with a male friend, a member of tha Inglewood PD (who was across tha street, harassing another group of people) took it upon himself to shine his flashlight in our faces and shout, "Whut's goin on over there?" Our response?... A collective, confused, "Uhhhhh..." while I threw up my hands in a "Whut tha Fuck???" gesture and stared at him with a look that undoubtedly said, "Fool, whut is your problem?"

I waited for Fuckery to commence, but none ever did, so I didn't hav to act a monkey fool... on that night.

THEN dumb ass Cambridge Police arrested Henry Louis Gates Jr, after he was seen entering his own home. Tha police report details that Professor Gates verified his residence, and therefore right to be at the address he had been seen entering and provided his Harvard University identification. However, because of Gates' "tumultuous manner" (which was displayed on his own property), he was arrested and charged with disorderly conduct. The charge has since been dropped, but that doesn't make tha matter less silly. Honestly, not only was there much racial profiling involved in this incident, but I think it's important to highlight that tha main reason for tha arrest clearly stemmed from this cop's bruised ego. Yes, Professor Gates was giving him tha business, however, cop shoulda climbed back into his unmarked cruiser, and kept it pushing. But he didn't wanna take an "L" in front of the audience of neighborhood folk that had stopped to observe tha spectacle. Plain and simple.



I want to thank President Obama for keeping it extra real in his take on tha situation. He's quoted as saying, "I think it's fair to say, number 1, any of us would be pretty angry. Number 2, that the Cambridge police acted stupidly in arresting somebody when there was already proof that they were in their own home. And Number 3 — what I think we know separate and apart from this incident — is that there is a long history in this country of African-Americans and Latinos being stopped by law enforcement disproportionately, and that's just a fact."

And he ain't even make that up.

Finally, I want to talk about how Inglewood PD stays shootin' folks. Last I heard, tha FBI was investigating an officer involved shooting that took place back in May where 31 year old Marcus Smith was killed at his own birthday party. Also, this past Tuesday marked tha 1 year anniversary of a shooting that claimed tha life of 38 year old Kevin Wicks. Neither of these men were tha first to fall victim to Inglewood PD, and unfortunately, they're not likely to be tha last.

Tha events of tha past few days are proof that regardless of status or gender, as long as you're a minority, you can easily become a casualty of an outbreak of "Swine Flu". Normal, routine activities such as walking down tha street of your own neighborhood or entering your home can illicit unwanted attention from ego-maniac, racist cops. Fortunately, in Professor Gates' and my own case, handcuffs and flashlights were tha most menacing weapons, everyone stayed bullet wound free, and Wayne Brady didn't hav to choke a bitch.

Beyonce Practices Ancient Creole Fertility Ritual On Stage

We've all come to expect certain things from one Mrs. Beyonce Giselle Knowles Carter. One: She gon hav some weave in her hair. Two: She might either (a) decend out of tha rafters on invisible wire and hover above tha stage like Tinkerbell at tha nightly Disneyland fireworks show, or (b) ascend up out of tha stage, wind blowing through tha aforementioned weave, stilettos, properly on feet, booming on all these hoes. Three: She's gonna hav more riffs for that ass than an extended guitar solo. Four: Likely she will be dressed like a super hero. None of these are necessarily bad things. That's just how that sista roll.



Well, on Sunday night at tha 9th Annual BET awards, she left tha crime fighting to Keyshia Cole and Monica. Beyonce ain't got nothin' to prove. She got her reformed drug dealer Millionaire-Boo, she done made it, and she ain't yo Karyn White -- I mean superwoman!

*rolls eyes*

Whut you thought this was? A show? You thought Beyonce was here to entertain you with something exciting, energetic, and visually tantalizing? Well she showed you whut was whut, didn't she?

Instead of layin down on a couple yards of tha finest spandex infused fabric that tha Houston swap meet had to offer, and allowing Mama Tina to swaddle her good and tight till she looked like human fruit roll up, Beyonce went for a more elegant look...



A rhinestone encrusted bathing suit made of Cool Whip accented with a skirt constructed of a discarded parasol, tha elderly neighbor lady's sheer curtains and fur trim from tha clearance section at tha local Michael's Arts and Crafts store. Isn't she a vision of beauty?

Nod your head in agreement.

Mmmmhmmm, we all knew Beyonce was lovely, pure as tha driven snow, and as close to divinity as a black woman can get, but whut you didn't kno was that whut you actually witnessed was not a normal Beyonce performance, but an ancient Creole Fertility Ritual that has been passed down from one generation of Dereon women to tha next. Right now, there is a big head, big lipped, lightskinned baby cookin' in Bey-bey's sacred womb. I'm tryin' to tell you. Shawn Corey Matthew Dereon Celestino Knowles Carter, coming soon to an Essence cover near you.

WASH YO HANDS, HOE!

Monday, my boss and I were talking about this episode of Oprah that she had seen that had totally freaked her out -- something about some flesh eating bacteria. Basically, there's this rapidly spreading strain of bactera called MRSA (which stands for Methicillin-resistant staphylococcus aureus). Its resistant to commonly prescribed antibiotics and kills more people every year than AIDS. If you get a cut and it gets infected with this bacteria and it goes untreated it can destroy your muscles and spread to your organs. Scary shit.



As we were talking about it, I brought up tha Swine Flu and all these other diseases and whut not that honestly can probably be prevented and in most cases avoided or contained by simply washing your hands. This led to a recent observation that I've been making in tha Ladies Restroom of tha building that I work in. There are alot of hoes that ain't washin their damn hands! I've been in tha stall more than once very recently and heard women come and go and either not go to tha sink at all, or do that "I'mma run tha water for literally 3 seconds" bullshit and exit tha restroom. Forreal? You WASHED your hands in that 3 seconds? Did you even touch tha water? NASTY.

Ladies, wash your hands!... especially if you've just handled any business that involved your vagina and/or ass! Anything less than hot water and soap for a minimum of 30 seconds before leaving tha restroom is UNACCEPTABLE! If I catch you leavin' a public restroom without gettin familiar with some basic hygiene and common courtesy, I might hav to bring Wayne Brady into this... and nobody wants that. Real talk, I don't want your urine residue or coochie juice on tha door knob I'm about to touch!

Granted, I may be a person that washes my hands more often than tha average individual and I think it has to do with my cosmetology background. In school, they stressed tha importance of disinfecting combs and other utensils, keeping your work area clean, and always washing your hands between clients or after handling equipment. As a matter of fact, we were instructed to just wash our hands during our State Board Exam if we were ever nervous or at a loss as to whut to do next. And I find myself doing this in real life. If I need to think, I just stand at a sink and wash my hands. Its actually a good way to clear your head... but aside from that, it's just a good habit. Folks that kno me kno I KEEP some antibacterial soap at my sinks! I DO NOT PLAY!

But back to tha nasty hoes that ain't washin their hands. There's this one girl that works in my building that I see pretty much every day. I don't kno her name or whut she does and up until this point, I've only ever noticed that she's kinda thick for a white girl and always has on either Seven or True Religion Jeans. That's it. That's all I kno about this chick. Well, a couple of weeks ago, I was in tha restroom in one of tha stalls and she flushed tha toilet in tha stall next to mine and walked over to tha sink. I could see it was her through tha space between tha door to my stall and tha wall. No sooner than she turned on tha water, she turned it off and then she proceeded out of tha restroom. DIDN'T WASH HER HANDS! A couple of days later, tha same thing happened with tha same girl. TRIFLIN'!

Folks, I can't make this up... tha other day, I was coming from tha restroom, walking down tha hall back to my office suite and she came walking into tha building from tha parking lot with two of her co-workers. I gather they were talking about some cupcakes she made or somethin, cause one of tha guys was like, "You made those from scratch?" and she was all proud and said somethin' like, "Yeah! Nothin out of tha box. I sifted tha sugar and everything!"

I was DYING!!!

"Cupcakes from scratch"?... as in scratching yo dirty ass???

I wanted to scream, "NOOOOO! DON'T EVER EAT ANYTHING THIS TROLLOP MAKES! SHE DON'T WASH HER HANDS! UGGGGH!"

But, I just threw up in my mouth a little, hid my disgust with a smirk, and went on to my office.

*laughter*

Nasty!

Gutter butt!

So now, every time I see her, all I can think is, "That's tha girl that don't wash her hands." That's even how I refer to her when my co-workers and I are talking about whut all is going on in tha building. Sad.

*sigh* This was long. Tha point (that I'm sure you've already extracted) is: WASH YOUR HANDS! Also, don't shake hands with tha thick white girl in Seven Jeans... and don't eat her cupcakes, either. You've been warned.

And tha "Nigga Please Award" Goes To...

Given tha subject of this Youtube video, tha reciepient of this week's Nigga Please Award might be a bit of a surprise for you, but then again, if you've learned anything about me in all this time, it really shouldn't be.



Yes, this ignorant fool got 21 kids. However, really I ain't lookin at him crazy. Tha ones that need to be tied to a tree and flogged within an inch of their lives are these dumb women. And so, this weeks Nigga Please Award goes to tha trollops that laid down with this negro (sometimes more than once) and made more babies with him, knowing good and damn well he had a tribe of children. Men can't do whut women don't allow. Once those of us with vaginas learn this simple truth, tha World will instantly become a better place.

Maybe Nas Was Right

Until a couple of nights ago, I had never actually seen Late Night with Jimmy Fallon with my own two baby browns. I had only heard that my band aka The Roots were providing tha music, and I thought it could be a tragic disaster... or possibly tha coolest thing to ever happen to white insomniacs all over tha country. I wasn't all tha way with it, but admittedly I wasn't 100% opposed, acknowledging that them bruthas are gettin old, touring ain't necessarily tha life, and yet, bills are constant and demand payment.

Fast forward to Monday night. I watched in horror as The Roots did a bit called "Slow Jam the News", where Black Thought (who, I say is one of tha illest, most underrated emcees EVER! Step up and debate me on this! I will Batman your ass!) sang about California's budget crisis (ugh!) while Jimmy Fallon interjected in a supposedly sultry tone with innuendo laden "humor"... none of which was funny. And all night, he kept referring to Questlove and Black Thought as "Amir" and "Tariq". I know those are their actual names, and maybe I'm just being sensitive because of my deep and abiding love for The Roots, but it felt a little disrespectful. When Jimmy Fallon or any of tha guests would refer to The Roots, it always felt slightly patronizing. Of course, I can't really give a lot of details about tha episode I watched nor am I really qualified to critique it, since at about 10 minutes into tha show I started booing loudly, throwing anything within arm's reach at tha TV, and frantically tweeting and texting about how much I hated whut I was seeing.

I know, I know. You don't have to tell me. As long as those of us who love Hip Hop are still alive, Hip Hop lives...yeah. I got that. However, you must understand... tha past few years have been a little too much for my fragile (though enduring) spirit to take. First, Lil Wayne proclaims himself to be "The Greatest Rapper Alive" (when plenty of other rappers that are clearly better than him ain't laid down in their graves yet) and, to my shock and great dismay, people who are not hearing impaired agree. Then, whut I personally consider to be the greatest collective sonic force in tha Hip Hop genre, The Roots, end up as a corny house band on a bland ass late night talk show. Maybe it's a bit of a stretch to say that Hip Hop is dead, but if it isn't yet, surely it's on it's way.

Tha Thing I Have in Common with Asian Men

Monday morning, I was watching The Today Show, which is basically whut I do every morning during tha week, cause Matt Lauer is tha muthafuckin man. It just so happened that on this particular Monday morning, the families of two American Journalists that are currently being held in North Korea were on tha show being interviewed. Apparently Laura Ling and Euna Lee were arrested in North Korea on March 17th and are charged with crossing the North Korean border from China along with other unspecified "hostile acts." They go to trial tomorrow and of course, just like their families and so many others that are familiar with this incident, I am hoping that these women will soon be released and allowed to come back home.



As a side point, Laura Ling is sister to Lisa Ling, who also is a reporter, whom I enjoy very much. You may remember she had a brief stint on The View or perhaps you're familiar with her appearances on Oprah. None of this is relevant to whut tha actual point of why I'm writing this blog, but...whutever.

Okay, on to my observation.

Here are tha families of tha imprisoned women...



Now... notice tha two white men on tha back row? Yes? You may (or may not, depending on how you've been socialized) be surprised to find out that those are the women's husbands. Surprise, surprise! Two Asian women are married to White men!

And with that observation I thought, "Wow, black women aren't tha only ones who are hated by tha opposite sex of their racial/ethnic group and often deserted for tha prospect of white booty!" ...and at once, I felt irrevocably bonded to Asian men all over tha World.

One Last Time

You kno how it is when a good thing has run it's course... Let's use a relationship for an example. Even if it's time to move on and you about to giv that former special someone their walking papers, it doesn't mean that tha good times you had weren't good. And sometimes, you just want one last kiss before you say, "Goodbye."

Well, last week's Pretty Ricky debacle was a good time, indeed. I don't think I've laughed that hard this entire year. And tha giggles didn't stop once tha video did! My friends and I (shout outs to Chas and Ebony Janice) engaged in hours of hilarious conversation with laughs that no doubt added a couple years to our lives and definitely got our abs right and tight for tha summer. I want to personally thank "Sexy Spec" for that none sense. Sadly, it's a new week and therefore time to move on to new foolishness, but I can't resist, so here's one for tha road. I hope it's as good for you as it was for me.

Whut's About to Happen

So, yeah, I've fallen off my blogging a little bit. So whut. I think you needed this time to detox from all tha mess and ridiculum that I pride myself on sharing with tha World. Its time to be serious. Well, not all tha way, cause I don't even think complete seriousness in this forum is a reality...Its time to be MORE serious. "Why?" you may ask. Well, cause it's about to be National Poetry Month, bitches! So whut's about to happen (for tha second year in a row) is I'm gonna join poets all over tha country in challenging myself to write a poem a day. Tha idea isn't so much that it's a complete, perfect poem, but really that it's a first draft. Expect it to be posted here by midnight every night. Some of them might be long...more than likely most will be short. Some may be really "deep" and/or esoteric. Some may be funny. Most of them will probably suck. And then, when April is over, it'll be back to our regularly scheduled mayhem, mischief, and general fuckery. Happy poem-ing!

April Jones' Daughter

My friend April Jones doesn't have a daughter, but if she did, it would be this strange, random little girl...

DON'T DO IT LIKE THAT!

So, I've been threatening to add another regular feature to this here blog, entitled "DON'T DO IT LIKE THAT!", inspired by my good friend, Chas Jackson. Well, actually, it was inspired by an incident with another "friend" who acted a monkey a few weeks back. As I gave Chas a detailed description of tha monkey business that transpired, he shouted, "DON'T DO IT LIKE THAT!" several times in response, and so, here we are. I'll give you tha details of that scenario another time, but for now, we got to talk about your little brother, Chris Brown.





Now, tha first thing he did wrong was havin' his jump off (or allowing her to) text him while he was with his baby-boo. He kno Ree-ree crazy! I mean, really, whut did he expect? Was she supposed to not go into a jealous fit of rage, snatch tha Lamborghini keys up out tha ignition and throw them into tha street? Whut would you do if you were a banshee from Barbados? You would act just like that... and punch him, too... and call him a nigga for good measure. If Chris didn't like all that cuttin' up, then he shoulda stopped messin w/ miss thang long ago, cause she didn't just wake up that day and start actin a fool.



In "response" to her dramatic outburst, after lookin' for tha keys and comin' back to tha car empty handed, he procedes to "touch her soul" (Kanye lyrics off tha 808s and Heartbreaks album) aka choke her out, punch, and bite her. Bite her, Chris? DON'T DO IT LIKE THAT! Apparently, after she's passed out, he scurries off into tha night on foot.



Aside from tha obvious mess, there is so much wrong with this situation. Who bites people? And furthermore, you don't just wake up one morning and start choking bitches. Its apparent that alot of unreported fuckery led up to this right here. These folks do not need to reconcile.

Hump Day

Happy hump day...