Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Constantly Mourning Relationships I never had

He looked similar to this, always shirtless too...
He was perfect. An American alpha male, bearded and ready to fight to the death like Leonidas. He worked that beefy body out daily and it showed. Every time I went to his place, he answered his door shirtless. He was strong, beefy and had a commanding presence. He was also humble and easy to talk to. He had dark features and deep fiery eyes that looked into mine every time I spoke. He was attentive and supportive. After drinks at the straight bars, he would allow me to crash on his couch. I yearned to enter his bedroom as my erection pressed against his couch pillows. I wanted him to take my mind, body and soul. I wanted him to unleash his fury and turn my ass into a battlefield. However, those thoughts did not overshadow my appreciation for the bromance. He was heterosexual after all, at least that's what he called himself. He never made a move on me, but his presence was addictive. We lost touch and he moved away. I miss him everyday. But what exactly am I missing? He gave me so much more than any of the gay men were willing to give. He was foreplay without sex. We had late night conversations and we laughed together. I felt human around him and his laid-back personality was refreshing. He had that organic manliness that I craved. Grindr or Craigslist Personals, made me feel dirty afterward. They weren't interested in simply going out and having a good time. It was almost as if I experienced dating, with a straight man; Something gay men refused to provide.

The Jamaican's Patois talked me out of my pants and he fucked me on the floor. For several days, I pulled at his locs as he entered me. We spoke of my parents, grandparents, my fears, my past, my dreams and my insecurities. He had a boyfriend back on the island, but that Summer, he was all mine. I knew he would depart eventually. I understood that the stroke of his tongue against my neck and the scent of natural oils from his body would dissipate. I knew I'd be back to reality, but I submerged myself in his dark brown skin. He wore tank tops like a uniform, His rippling muscles flexed as he raised his glass at the bar. He danced with me at a club and I remember the elation on his face. He called me beautiful, in the way only an island man could. He went back to his little boyfriend in Jamaica, but somehow, I went into shock. I can still taste his dick.
Actual Photo. LEFT: He was delicious in every way possible
Often, I feel like the universe is teasing me. It allows me to taste the sweetest, juiciest fruits, only to snatch them away and deem them forbidden. I can't seem to keep anyone around, or meet someone who is even available. The moments I have shared with so many are beautiful, breath-taking, others not so much. However, those beautiful moments of sitting on a Ferris Wheel or bowling with my straight friend, I wouldn't take back. I miss Daylin, the beautiful heterosexual who I often wondered about. How drunk do I have to get him? Why is his dick erect while he is sitting next to me? I recall Benn, the tall, dark and handsome gay man who had a good job but the mind of a child. He was only interested in playing with my emotions. He was the type to celebrate my birthday and come to my graduation party as my "Date", only to never commit. After ghosting, he drunkenly told me he loved me, then he went ATV'ing with his new lover in the desert. 
I miss bowling with this STUD
The father of all of the ghosts was De'Andre. I was naive, insecure and seventeen. He was twenty-three and afraid of himself, hiding in a masquerade of heterosexual images for the world. He was light skin, fit with long cornrows. I was his dirty secret. I was his long ride around Rock Creek Park, Washington DC in the late of night. I was sex in his apartment but I was never to say hello to him in public. I was his shame behind the tinted windows of his Cadillac. I went away to Atlanta for college and learned to love myself more. It took catharsis to realize that he was never a boyfriend. Yet I miss the way he got inside of my head and kept me at the edge of reason. 

Why do I torture myself? Why do I even attempt with these men? I've been a slut just to feel wanted, just to feel SOMETHING because there always nothing. Voids never filled. The men were never too thrilled about anything consistent or long term. I knew I'd feel the burn, but what is to learn? Should I just be a recluse and take no risks at all? Bitterness isn't healthy either. People say that love will find me and to stop looking for it. But I rarely am even in situations where I believe I will meet someone. Most gay men like myself are relegated to apps since there aren't many venues for us beyond bars. Even when I think I find someone, it always appears that I am the only one sending a text. I am often left on "READ" and I hear excuses about busy schedules. Kissing stopped meaning anything over a decade ago. They can french kiss me for hours, then leave me dehydrated. 

I try not to be cynical, I try to maintain hope but it truly is a challenge. I want to FEEL that feeling and have it stay. I know what I want. I understand the law of attraction but that new age shit hasn't even delivered an appetizer. 

What if this gay lifestyle is just so sexually driven, that I am more easily impressed by any hint of depth? Even the gay couples I come across are in open relationships. They are often more promiscuous than they were when they were single. I've been invited into numerous marital bedrooms. I often wonder if there is such a thing as a monogamous gay couple. Then again, the straights seem to have difficulty in that area as well. But for this purpose, I will focus on the gay lifestyle because it is my perspective. 

Just like the film "MOONLIGHT" I miss what I never had. They constantly had me wanting more

When a gay man like myself comes across a guy on say,... Grindr, you're already being asked about sex. "What do you get into?" Is the first line of questioning, typically before your name is asked, if at all. Your name isn't important. Your identity is a sex role. Top, bottom or versatile. I've had great sex, but little to no real connections. I mourn the loss of those who brought me feelings, but butterflies have a short life span. I don't want to lead with body parts, I want a guy to investigate my Zodiac sign. I've never truly had a romantic relationship. I've never been fulfilled. I am mourning moments, rather than rings. I am naked on an island of orgies, waiting for someone to dress me up and respond to the dissertations in my mind. 

I am Waiting...

I'm a gay man, kissed by straight men. I've had dates with straights and parted ways with gays. I miss sex as if it mattered. I miss bowling when it was all a mind game. I've lived in houses that were never built. I am constantly mourning because every package is always fleeting. I go forward armored with spectacular moments that I want duplicated and merged into one man. One man who stays. One man who wants my mind, body and soul. One man who can penetrate my mental like the hetero's have, but fucks my body like no gay man ever has. One man who calls to hear my voice. One man who is moment after spine tingling moment. One man, who makes me forget about the men I never had. The men I never needed. One man who kisses me on a beach after years of playing in the sandbox. One man whose eyes communicate with one single glance, that he will never, ever leave my side. 

Like "MOONLIGHT", I hope the years of confusion and unrequited love, reward my lack of patience

Monday, April 16, 2018

And then, there was CARDI...Why CARDI B Rose to Hip Hop Prominence

The sound is faint, but the eighties baby struggles to hear echoes from dynamic voices of the nineties MC. The generation that witnessed the assassinations of Tupac and Christopher Wallace, has now become a generation like many before it, wondering what happened to "real music."

We are perplexed to say the least. Now exists a hip hop scene that has grown unrecognizable. It doesn't look or feel like the hip-hop we remember. New York and Los Angeles aren't ruling the airwaves with unmistakable lexicons, everything seems to have blended. The internet has birthed a fleet of young rappers with Instagram fame and Sound Cloud validation, when once upon a time, the masses had to actually go out and purchase a physical body of work. They exist as Itunes hits, flamboyant but cloned personalities with little life experience and little to no substance in their lyrics. They call themselves rappers, but they feel like impostors, as we remember the grit of a rapper like DMX.
We shake our heads in disgust, as clowns receive clout and disrespect the legends of our great era. Gone are the days of real life testimony of the Black experience in urban America, even though we are gunned down by police. Now we witness lighter hues, that don't share our experience, speaking in a vernacular that should insult our intelligence. They call themselves hip hop and grant themselves awards before they are recognized. We remember the humility of Niggas with Attitude. (NWA) Now a Mexican screams the word Nigga and places himself above the Black rappers of New York.

Throughout all of the auto-tuned rappers and one hook wonders, there remained an unmistakable and unavoidable void. The industry was slowly losing money due to streaming, but that was only half the story. The public craved authenticity. They wanted a love story. They wanted to FEEL someone! They needed a backstory, someone relatable, a different perspective....Hell...SOMETHING! Catchy hooks and cute gimmicks couldn't keep the buzz alive. Even Nicki Minaj failed to maintain her glory, as her music charted but didn't stay there. We grew tired of her larger than life posterior body part, her gimmicky presentation, resting bitch-face persona and arrogant attitude. She was known for her music but not for her personality. And there-in lied the problem. She had no real substance. Her personality? Well there wasn't one, per-say, there were many. Many scripted theatrical personalities that confused the Hip Hop heads. Hip Hop was built off of authenticity and upliftment out of struggle. It originated from people expressing their most personal struggles through spoken word.

Nicki popped on the scene posing like someone we remember; legs wide open and the next thing we knew, She was a "Five Star Chick" But who was she? We didn't know and many didn't seem to care. They bought into her many personalities that had nothing to do with the real her. She hid behind neon wigs and costumes while those her age looked at her like she was crazy. We didn't understand this rap version of Lady Gaga. We wanted what we fell in love with as children to return to the mainstream. We wanted Queen Latifah to stop singing and modeling, we wanted her to shed the blonde weave and wrap her regal head. We wanted her to speak about Unity and we wanted Lauryn Hill to come back to Earth. Meanwhile, Nicki developed a fanbase with teenagers who knew nothing about the women of Hip Hop from our hay day. We appreciated Nicki's lyrical word play and the woman had bars, but she just didn't have that round the way girl feel. It was as if she were, dare I say it, a manufactured BARBIE. Pure perfection, wigs hot against her skull, a feature on everyone's hit song and we grew tired of her early.

 It began to feel as if the machine were pushing her clout more than the people were. She was a lone wolf in a sea in a male dominated industry. Even though there were plenty of female rappers around, somehow, she was the only one on our radio stations. Something didn't add up. As she twerked her firm ass on our televisions screaming about an Anaconda, we rolled our eyes to another Azealia Banks controversy. We said goodbye to the rapper Eve as she frequented Dubai with her Billionaire husband. We felt sorry for Foxy Brown who couldn't hear, and we were confused by the new Lil Kim. Dej Loaf was cute, but that was it, she couldn't compete with someone like Nicki, nor could Young Ma who wasn't even trying to. There was a White Austrailian who developed a southern accent, and she was pushed as a pop artist more than a rapper. She was just too fancy to spit bars in the alley with Remy Ma. Speaking of her, there was so much hype surrounding her return, but she didn't deliver what we asked for and her obsession with Nicki overshadowed any attempt at a hit song.

So Remy reemerged with a confusing looking and sounding Lil Kim, whose autotuned singing wasn't what we ordered from the menu.

And then, there was Cardi.

It was a sound we remembered. The hard beat and aggressive voice that effortlessly told an unapologetic story of resilience. It sounded something like female empowerment that we missed. Her red bottoms were "Bloody Shoes",, and though it was simple, it communicated a strength that was greatly missed. She was that round the way girl we craved. There was a huge vacancy, and she was right on time. Who is that girl? People whispered. Many knew who she was but were surprised to actually love Bodak Yellow. Some knew her from funny Instagram videos while others, Love & Hip Hop. Either way, Cardi, was an authentic personality. She was that stripper who had a mouth that no one could tame. She felt like a rebel rather than a robot. She was a woman with flaws and a woman who rapped about those flaws. We had enough Barbies, we wanted a gangsta bitch. We wanted a conversation and not a commercial. We wanted a stripper with a machine gun. We wanted a bitch who didn't sing, but rapped about getting her teeth fixed and how expensive that shit was. We could relate and she was the warrior princess of us, the underdogs. Men felt her, women felt her, children felt her and Hell, Even Oprah Winfrey felt her! What Cardi B brought to the game, was the clarity that only broken English could communicate. She didn't need to speak the queens English or discuss who she's better than, she only needed to tell us who she was. No frills, no diamond necklaces. She was the imperfection we missed.

She was that woman who didn't need singing on her single. She didn't need to sound like pop. She carried the entire song with that hardcore beat and we responded. It had been quite some time since a song like that, male or female had hit the radio waves. Even the men were singing or making strange incoherent noises in their lackluster music. The music industry was already trying to comprehend the public's obsession with social media talent. The masses were losing interest in the machines Barbie dolls and GI Joe's. Internet rappers were all the rage because there was at least somewhat of an illusion of authenticity.
However, a girl from the Bronx managed to talk her shit right onto Billboards Number 1 slot.

She went from oversharing on Instagram to co-hosting with Jimmy Fallon. The more people were exposed to her, the more they fell in love with her. The more people had experienced Nicki, the more indifferent they became. The industry had to cope with the idea that the public didn't want their manufactured doll babies, they wanted life. They wanted an artist who would curse on live television or discuss feeling butterflies in her vagina at the GRAMMYS. They wanted a woman who wasn't going to apologize for being pregnant nor stop any scheduled promotions because of it. They wanted a woman who would pop her pussy at Coachella while nearly about to give birth. The world wanted a rapper who actually spoke to them rather than someone who treated rapping like a term paper. Others bragged about their writing skills while Cardi just said what she felt. She was a Cinderella story. While a Barbie twirled and bragged about her wealth before entering her private plane, the world craved Cardi. When she spoke up, we knew we were receiving what we prayed for. There was no mistaking CARDI. The world is partying with Cardi.

Saturday, July 8, 2017


The funny thing about loneliness, is that you don't have to be alone to feel it. I can't place the moment when I started forcing jokes and faking smiles. It seems to have always been this way; Simply existing. Painfully, I tolerate the presence of people and the absence of myself.
Sometimes I think that we are all lonely, but some just hide it better than others. The crazy part is, most of us aren't even aware that we are lonely. After some deep introspection, I have diagnosed myself and maybe you can as well. Here are FIVE ways to tell that you are lonely.

 Social Media Addiction

"A selfie a day keeps the tears away"  There's nothing wrong with it, we all do it. We find ourselves walking down the sidewalk and encounter the perfect lighting. We snap a selfie, we wait for the LIKES, we look to see WHO liked the photo and we hope there are positive comments. But how many is too many? Anything over one selfie a day in my opinion is a bit too much unless you're an "INSTAGRAM MODEL" getting paid for it. However, multiple selfie's a day in my eyes is equal to a desperate cry for HELP. Not just for attention, but a cry out to the universe that screams, "I EXIST! WHY IS NO ONE REALLY SEEING ME?" You can't possibly be content with how the world sees you if you have to force yourself on your followers every hour with a brand new selfie. Ask yourself, Why am I posting another photo instead of really EXPERIENCING my day? 

Why do we take selfies with our friends for the admiration of strangers? These random people on social media like our photos but they will never send us birthday cards. They will never be there with you eating ice cream in the middle of the night if your boyfriend breaks up with you. Why do we want their approval? We just want to perform, but we aren't truly connected. I recall going to bars and thinking to myself, at least I'll get a good photo from this. Yet it's all fake. I didn't have a blast at the bar, but by looking at my smiling filtered photo, you'd assume I was the life of the party. Who am I trying to impress? It seems I am only trying to convince myself. See, I went out, I was around other humans in a social environment, LOOK WORLD, I exist and I am smiling! But I can't convince myself of it, even though the likes keep chiming on my phone, I have no one to actually CALL.

Are you obsessively reaching out to others on social media sites? Do you constantly feel the need to comment on gossip sites, hoping others will interact with you? Do you troll just to see if you can affect the emotions of others? Does it make you feel alive, just by the acknowledgment of pure strangers? Are you spending hours every day online, snapping, chatting, uploading and tweeting? How much time do you spend in the real world, face-to-face with others or merely being happy with what the mirror told you?

I pull out my phone and take a selfie from the "GOOD" angle that guarantees likes. I just wish I could FEEL the likes.

Feeling Disconnected

You hate the Thanksgiving dinners because you never seem to get full. Not from the food, but from the people who are suppose to be family. You see, we fill ourselves with food instead of real conversations with family members. You see them once a year but you've never seen their tears. The cousins who have never seen you without a turkey involved. The aunts who arrive and hand you money, but they've never called you on an August afternoon just because.

There are so many ways we cover up loneliness with false abundance and false connections. Our entire culture is lonely, thus the creation of Thanksgiving. We aren't giving thanks, we are inventing a time of year that we can feel comforted by. However Calendars cannot cure loneliness. I've covered myself with so many distractions. It's like the more people that are around me, the lonelier I become. I want to tell fake people to shut the fuck up with their small talk. I haven't spoken to you since college, we didn't talk much then and now you are showing me photos of your babies. Why? It burns even more, when the mouths move but the hearts are frozen. People ask, "How are you?" but they're rushing away, not giving an actual fuck. But back to you, do you feel like everyone is an actor? Do you often feel that no matter what anyone says, they are just being polite? When you are around a group of people, do you feel like your mouth is moving but you aren't really present?

They say stop and smell the roses...
But what about stopping and smelling each others spirits? What about the humans? Roses can't speak. It is truly insufferable to walk into work only to feel like a piece of a program, instead of a piece of humanity. Co-workers talk to you, but they have to be there. You have to censor yourself, so that you don't communicate too realistically. You must always adjust your essence to a work environment of fraudulence. You are here to be a drone. You don't feel valued, not because you fear could be fired at any moment, but because your boss sees you as merely a worker bee. It seems you are always at work and always having to exist in this fake sphere of interaction. And we all carry it with us beyond work.  Do you work well with others? It's a commonly asked question on the job applications, but how can you work well with anyone whose not even being themselves? You aren't even being yourself. It's a performance, you are playing a role. You are escaping to the bathroom every chance you get. Yes you work well with others because you know how to read a script, but during lunch, you're in the handicap stall, balling your eyes out. It's just like junior high.


How did I become an adult yet I am still waiting on text messages to be answered? Like a melodramatic teenager wondering if my friends put me on the back burner, I like their photo hoping they'll remember I exist. I look at all of the happy friendships on Instagram and I wonder what they share that makes them so elated. I look at my unanswered texts and I feel like a loser. If only we could box our human connections up in pretty Valencia filtered Instagram posts. If they only felt as good as they look on social media. If only those same people in the photos smiling with you, actually show up when the party is over. Parties are fun, but only because you are drunk or eating or being fooled by dance music. Why did I come in the first place? Why am I overindulging on the food?
Though I am skinny, food has always been a drug for me. Hell we all know what comfort food is. It's hard to remember you're lonely when you are making love to a Five Guys burger. It's just food, yet we feel so bad about eating at a restaurant bar alone. We eat comfort food because humans aren't comforting us. We eat because we want to talk about the turkey, rather than pour into each other during Thanksgiving. We need a delicious distraction.

What if families sat around a table during the holidays, and that table didn't have food on it?
I remember going to a new high school after tenth grade. The horror of it all still sends fear up my spine. The quintessential moment of walking into a crowded cafeteria and knowing no one, well that applies to my entire adulthood. I walk into rooms full of people and I don't know where to sit. I don't know where I fit into any of it. Even when I mingle with a certain subset of people, somehow I feel that I'm just performing and not truly engaging. This is why we as humans often congregate around food, it's a way to overindulge to distract ourselves from the loneliness that people make us feel. Yes, that is correct, most people are MORE LONELY when you add more people to the equation. Or what if it's just two of you? And you're naked?

Well overindulging in sex is a clear sign of severe loneliness. Its more than just promiscuity, you desperately NEED to feel some kind of connection with another human. For me, Sex is all about feeling but often times the more sex, the lonelier and more unfulfilled I become. A warm body isn't always an easy answer to being alone. After I cum, I look around me wondering how I can extend that good feeling. After all, he's already putting his clothes on and returning to his stoic form of expression. It can become an endless cycle, like a drug addiction, Searching for more sex but never achieving that ultimate high, that ultimate connection.

Sex can be the closest you'll get to someone, or it can thrust you away from them. Sex can take you deep into someone, but it can also make you feel so far from them. What guys have done to my body has felt amazing, but most of the time, I wasn't even there. It's like I was watching my own porn. After it was over, I had to come back to earth and realize, "THAT'S NOT MY MAN" and I will probably never see him again.

Partying way too often

We combat loneliness in our own ways. I have stuffed animals, Apple Music, Grindr, a bar tab and coupons for Popeyes printing out right now. There were times in my early twenties that I couldn't stay out of a club or bar. I would flirt, drink and dance the night way and do it all again the next day. I wanted to feel connected to others, but I was just a blur in the strobe lights to others. The people I met wouldn't remember me the next day and the friends who I went out with just saw me as SOMEONE TO GO OUT WITH. A club buddy and nothing more. The only sober times we spent together were when we were waiting in line to get into the club.

There is nothing wrong with partying, I love to have a good time, but sometimes we have to take step back and wonder if it's too much too often. Maybe stay in and have a movie night instead of going to that crowded club of smelly people. You can pour your own drink the way you like it at home rather than a bartender who stiffs you on alcohol content. Do you feel that you always have to go out just because its the weekend? Does it usually not even fulfill you? You keep doing it anyway, because lil' Jon's "SHOTS" came on the radio and now you feel its Friday and its time to get wasted. But you'll get wasted and you'll be unable to feel any connections. If you go out all of the time, but never feel like you felt when you sat by a bonfire in middle school with friends, then its time for adjustments. If you are truly connected and content with the people in your life, then you don't ALWAYS have to go out just to be around strangers or mere associates. If your social life always involves being around multiples of people, then there's no way you are connected. You are lonely, because that's a crowd. And crowds cannot give you all of its attention.

Dating Indiscriminately 

The truth is, you don't NEED to date anyone, at least right now. You will continue to breathe if you go a few months or years without a relationship. However, the TV ads and movies have you wanting that cinematic romance. Or maybe even just someone to argue with and have make-up sex with. You crave someone, anyone in your bed and in your life. However when you find someone, they make you unhappy....EVERY. TIME. Why? 
Because you're only dating them for their existence. You have not done your homework on yourself to find out who is the best type of person for you. These men, these women are just available, so you take them up on their offer. You may have good sex, even great sex but there is no deep connection. You move on from that fling to another one and its the same thing. You are searching for someone to play a role and not for someone to love. What is the point of dating if there is no path toward love? Without a path you will continue to feel empty with every new body that enters your bedroom. You are addicted to someone calling you "BABY" rather than someone who can really make your heart skip a beat. The fact that he or she can kiss your neck isn't special, it feels just as good as if anyone else did it.  There is nothing wrong with dating, or even dating multiple people, but if you are someone who dates and gets in and out of relationships quickly, there's a problem. That problem is loneliness. The cure is not another person, the cure is yourself. You have to realize that the more of these "Dates" you bring into your life, the less fulfilled you will feel until you FOCUS. A person who is not lonely can go a while without searching for a date or craving a relationship. They can sit with themselves and let the universe do its work. You, my friend, know good and well that this individual isn't THE ONE, yet they are in your bathroom brushing their teeth. You hate how they leave the dental floss all over the sink and the only thing you have in common is a love for red wine and 90's sitcoms. Why are they there? They are only there because your subconscious needs this illusion of companionship. It's a fraud. You don't need to rush into dating, sit back and get to know yourself. You are less lonely when you are alone. It sounds strange, but if you are constantly needing to date new people, then maybe who is missing at the table, is YOU. 

Monday, February 29, 2016


What did yall expect?

Legendary Comfort Girl Chris Rock, hosted the White Oscars and took that opportunity to throw Black people under the bus.
In the midst of heightened controversy surrounding Hollywood's lack of diversity and the Academy's lack of fucks to give for people of color, Rock decided that the best position for him to take on a platform that reached millions, would be the position of "You're not a Kappa" Yes, Rock in typical fashion, secured his place in the establishment by tap dancing and smiling WIDE to an audience of pampered chosen people. If you were expecting him to take a stand and use that platform to preach the revolutionary gospel then you were sadly mistaken and quite frankly, you were not paying attention. 
White Hollywood darling Leonardo Dicaprio, star of "DJANGO" laughs with his house slave Stephen 

Rock, like many A listers in the entertainment industry, is a paid comfort girl, propped up to make White people comfortable. Occasionally the machine will allow for one of these Black comfort girls to raise a fist and feign a revolution but the puppet strings are never too far behind. The establishment has taken these serious issues of diversity, racism, police brutality, government mishandling of Black lives and so forth, and trivialized it. Put it into a catchy beat and under a SAFE blonde weave. They have taken the biggest Black comedian next to Kevin Hart and put him on a national stage to praise White people and shame the Blacks. These Blacks, his so-called people, were the punch line the entire night. 

Racism, whether it be "sorority" or "cross burning" racism is far too serious to have a punch line at all, especially when you stand on the very stage that racism permeates. These were his peers who dared to question the status quo of be a slave and the White man will give you his Oscar statue that is a rip off of our African ancestors in Kemet. These were his peers, Jada Pinkett Smith and Will Smith who sang his praises expecting for him to be the voice of the voiceless when instead he was the voice of the slavemaster. When Black people are rising up left and right, demanding better police forces, water systems, justice, diversity in media and entertainment, you sir, Mr. Rock, stand and discuss a Black woman's panties. This Black woman, RIHANNA, recently broke records with 14 number one singles to her career, but at the Oscars, she was just a pair of panties. As Leonardo Dicaprio laughed knowing he was one of those men to get into those panties. Jada Smith and Rihanna, you need to respond. 

It is time to clap back. I mean, why not PARIS HILTON'S Panties? Or here is something, how about we stop the misogyny and make jokes at White peoples expense. You know, the people who caused this issue to begin with. Black people did not cause this. Sure the OSCARS has always been racist, but so has many of our police forces. Are we not suppose to be upset at police brutality in 2016 because it has been happening since the 60s and even before that? The comparison to the 1960s should have opened your eyes to Chris Rock...

This is a Black man who stood up there and said that racism happened in the 1960's so why get upset about it now? As if to say, it has always been this way, just deal with it. I recall Black outrage over the Oscars over the years and though I was not around in the 60's, I know history, and Dorothy Dandridge created a bit of outrage when she did not win an Oscar and there was also talk about her playing a "floussy" and how she was a "Sell out" for White Hollywood in hopes of an Oscar. The conversations existed, the outrage existed, there was just no social media. And if you were not uncomfortable as White people sat and laughed at an image of someones Black grandmother hanging from a tree....then you are just fast asleep and frankly a waste of space. You should never put something that graphic and historically painful in the context of a joke, ESPECIALLY as a BLACK A LIST ACTOR on a stage that is currently experiencing accusations of racism. 

And what a way to welcome Black history month, by having TWO shuckin and jiving COMFORT GIRLS to promote WHITE POWER, CHRIS AND STACEY. Oh yes, she came out looking like a flapper in Black face. The woman who notoriously exclaimed that Blacks do not deserve nor need their own award shows, showed up to the Oscars with Chris Rock to basically say, THIS SHOULD BE GOOD ENOUGH! TAP DANCING AND LOOKING LIKE CLOWNS ON WHITE AWARD SHOWS SHOULD BE GOOD ENOUGH AS LONG AS A BLACK FACE IS THERE. 

And Whoopi and Kevin Hart and the rest of the SPONSORED black people smiled and nodded. After all, they are paid for and have all of the toys and trinkets that Hollywood can offer. Will and Jada have been shut out, all because they have been creating Black productions like Taharqa...yea, a movie about ancient Egypt accept the characters are historically accurate...they look like me. 


What most do not know, is that they have experienced a lot of roadblocks on other productions and have refused to play by the game, and it did not start with him not being nominated for CONCUSSION. The media is careful about what is reported, the narrative has to remain, that Will is just bitter, Jada is just defending her mans talent...and its no big deal. Chris had a job to do and his purpose was damage control for the Academy. Rock was a paid public relations antic. They knew long ago that no Blacks would be nominated...again. It wasn't HIS show. He was there for the best interests of the network and the Academy. Just like the head of the academy is a Black woman, the host of the show was a Black man, and they are both hired clowns to make everything look diverse. But you can put a Black man or woman in the White House, at the end of the day, it will still be called "THE WHITE HOUSE"

Malcolm X spoke of the house negro. 

And the house Negro always looked out for his master. When the field Negroes got too much out of line, he held them back in check. He put 'em back on the plantation. The house Negro could afford to do that because he lived better than the field Negro. He ate better, he dressed better, and he lived in a better house. He lived right up next to his master - in the attic or the basement. He ate the same food his master ate and wore his same clothes. And he could talk just like his master - good diction. And he loved his master more than his master loved himself. That's why he didn't want his master hurt. If the master got sick, he'd say, "What's the matter, boss, we sick?" When the master's house caught afire, he'd try and put the fire out. He didn't want his master's house burned. He never wanted his master's property threatened. And he was more defensive of it than the master was." -Malcolm X

So it appears that the White master is indeed sick, uncomfortable and traumatized by his own racism reflected in media. And here came CHRIS ROCK, to comfort his White master, to wear the masters clothes, speak the masters diction and live in the masters neighborhood....Here came Chris Rock, to put his BLACK peers back in check, back on that plantation of complacency. Why complain when this is just how it is, always was and always shall be? This is who you are nigger. FALL IN LINE. SHUCK AND JIVE. 
But the field negro, the smart one, waits until they have penetrated the masters house. Gotten in good with the house negro and the master. Graduated to a form of house negro status, and only then, when all the tables are set with the finest china, THEY STRIKE!


Wednesday, February 3, 2016


Academy Award winning actress, Halle Berry, allegedly STORMED out of a CBS production meeting recently. The embattled actress reportedly stated that she is "done WHORING for Hollywood..." This report comes after Berry broke her silence on the Oscar diversity controversy by stating:
 "I believed that in that moment, that when I said [in my acceptance speech], 'The door tonight has been opened,' I believed that with every bone in my body that this was going to incite change because this door, this barrier, had been broken. 

"And to sit here almost 15 years later, and knowing that another woman of color has not walked through that door, is heartbreaking," she explained. "It's heartbreaking because I thought that moment was bigger than me. It's heartbreaking to start to think maybe it wasn't bigger than me. Maybe it wasn't. And I so desperately felt like it was." 

Since Berry's win, only three Black women have been nominated for that same award and none of them won. However, this article is not about the Oscars, lets discuss Halle Berry because if she is done with tinsel town, I think it is for the best. It has been said that Berry has been over Hollywood for years. After her Oscar win, her career went the opposite direction and seemed to go downhill. Berry is a sort of an enigma of Hollywood, her career path simply does not make sense to many critics.

After being casted in a string of bad films since her Oscar, Berry ran to television and producing. However, the Sci-Fi so-called thriller, "EXTANT" didn't last but two seasons before being cancelled. Somehow CBS still believes in her star power, as they are working with Berry who is set to executive produce, "Legalease" on the network. The show is about a biracial lawyer who...

Wait, I am already bored. I know you are as well. The minute I read the word "biracial" I fell asleep. Halle has been forcing this poster woman for bitter biracials on us for far too long. The fact that the shows description features the word "biracial" means it must be an integral part of the plot. 

Besides, Viola Davis, or Annalise Keating, is our favorite attorney right now. Davis is dark, nappy headed and angered in six inch heels, sorry Halle, you can't beat that legendary Blackness. We won't tune in for you to try and make us feel sorry for the poor mixed woman, especially when Annalise is surrounded by dead White people! Maybe you should judge Miss America or something.

I kid around and I am a bit harsh on Halle but I miss the good ole days when she was Black and not looking for White folks to validate her.
Thirsty Berry and Warren Beatty in "Bulworth"

Black Hollywood was good for you Halle, remember Boomerang? Remember when you smelled like shit on the set of Jungle Fever? We loved you as a crackhead! I loved when you lost Isaiah and got him back and I loved me some Why do Fools Fall in Love? (Even though Vivica Fox upstaged you in EVERY scene) Sorry not sorry. 

Berry has stated that she went after roles meant for White women, she wanted to break barriers. I understand her efforts, I respect them, I REALLY DO


Her Black films were much better and she was much better in them. The Rich Mans Wife, a role meant for a White woman did nothing for her career. Monsters Ball was meant for a Black woman so maybe she should have spent that time doing a Tyler Perry film. The entire purpose of that film was to get Billy Bob Thorton's penis inside of a Black vagina for an Oscar nod.

Angela Bassett passed on that role for a reason, unlike Halle, she stayed true to roles that best suited her. She wasn't overly concerned with integrating White movies. After all, what does one Black woman in a White produced, directed and casted film really do for anyone? So you flew in the sky and attacked White people with lightning but in the end, they still didn't give STORM a spin-off.

Why? Because she was only casted to meet a quota. Her acting was subpar in the X MEN series and the role was CLEARLY not best suited for her. When the STORM film was not given to her, Halle had a temper tantrum and no one cared. Unfortunately, she was just another nameless Black face in a Halloween costume. That is what the producers wanted her to be in that film, which is why they did not develop your character Halle. Which is why it was never said in the series that Storm was from Africa. 

We knew everything about Rogue  and all those other White women, but Storm, just a high yellow Thunder THOT. 

And I understood her grievances, don't get me wrong, but she knew the game. She signed up for the game when she left Black Hollywood for bikini James Bond and Swordfish desperate titties. And what happened? One of the things she lost in the fire was her career and integrity.

When we think of that Oscar we think of your saggy titties. 

When we think of Angela Bassett we think of a BMW burning and a woman who has no fucks to give. 

We also think of better acting....

But we tend to be more easily impressed with high yellow mixed chicks, especially when they are naked. 

I commend Berry for producing, I did enjoy, Introducing Dorothy Dandridge and I appreciate her efforts now, but how many Black people is she employing?



Her upcoming series, "LEGALEASE" as of now, has nothing but White co-stars....

I may not like Tyler Perry's work but what he is doing is employing thousands of Black folk. What he is doing is creating a space for Black people to thrive in a way Tinsel Town won't allow. 

He isn't worried about Oscars...they don't give Oscars to drag queens anyway...He is simply focused on creating Black enterprises. 

Integrating Hollywood doesn't mean to integrate White Hollywood into your pussy sista. 

It has been said that the sex scene in Monsters Ball was REAL. Halle is known to really GET INTO HER CHARACTERS, she wants to be authentic. So she authentically FELT GOOD.

Now she has the Oscar, but she doesn't have respect. Now she has the Oscar, but her best films were the ones before the Oscar. 

Even BAPS was unintentionally GREAT! 

White films like Bond may have afforded her the biggest checks she ever saw, but they were lackluster roles. Her characters not really developed, more like a prop than a star. 

However she was the first Black Bond Girl, and that was a major win if we are looking at integrating Hollywood. 

Halle, it is my recommendation that you come back to Black. You played two thousand characters in CLOUD ATLAS opposite Tom Hanks only for the Box Office to sound like crickets.

Berry plays White Woman in "CLOUD ATLAS"

Your White baby daddies have left you, fought each other and one of them is taking your money. 

White is not better for you girl. White movies, White men, White validation is like a cum shot. The thrill is gone once it busts a nut.....

Wednesday, October 14, 2015


Checkout my YouTube video above on this topic

Clicks of profiles, stats given and you are reduced to an ensemble of numerical values that lead to meaningless body movements. You are a gay millennial, devoid of Kevin Costner and a plane which takes off without you. A real date would be great, however, you often find yourself NAKED instead of nude. Your burning desire to be wanted is intertwined with the regret of wanting his body without reaching for his personality. So here you are on the floor, next to the enema, wondering if you should have just gone out for pizza with your straight friend instead....

Has protocol already been established, that this is as good as it gets? The best date is receiving a blowjob from the Grindr boy with the great abs who stays to watch American Horror Story after licking cum off your left nipple. Ah yes, cuddled up against the dried semen of his abdomen while watching Lady Gaga claw some sluts guts out. How romantic. The macabre scene reminds you of this moment, he in your bed, clawing away at your soul with reductive sex. You are brutally addicted to the flesh while desiring love because one is readily available. You know that the best blowjob pales in comparison to the deep conversations you have with your straight bromance companion. You spare him the gory details, but you can call him whenever you want. You discuss your day while discreetly rubbing your crotch in the midst of his alpha male baritone voice. He is your best friend, your confidant, your pillow talk after a worthless hookup that you secretly wish was him instead...
or maybe you don't...
Who are we kidding, when he took his shirt off at the pool... you haven't been the same since!
And my straight friends have been hotter than this...Pray for me

The moment of truth. 

You receive intimacy from your hot straight friend, but get your rocks off with gay men. If only your straight friend were gay....but then again if he were gay, he'd be reduced to another Grindr conquest. After all, he fucks at least three different women every couple of weeks, the number of conquests would no doubt increase if he were gay. He is everything you want, but you've grown accustomed to his disease of heterosexuality. A horrible affliction that prevents him from showing you the thick cock that women seem to line up for. 

The red enticing apple that the straight God dangles in your face

(Even your slutty female friend who spilled the beans on the good dick...now you secretly hate her)
But you can relate to him, because he speaks of wanting to settle down but not being able to put down the Tinder app. He on Tinder, you on Grindr, and both of you loving each other intimately without sex. You'll never admit it to yourselves or each other, but he talks to you more than any woman. The twenty second long embrace after confiding in each other, the tasting of his beer at the bar, you make him laugh unlike Susan or Rebecca and "I love you man", came out of his lips after you talked him out of losing his shit when his crazy ex arrived at the barbecue.

Do you love him? Yes, as a friend, but you can't love him more than that, he's something like a brother to you. He's been there for you more than any gay man you've dated. People often whisper about you two because your chemistry is other worldly, but why question the chemistry?

Society attempts to delude you with the notion that you have nothing in common merely because of opposite sexualities, but yet here you are, rotating around the same nucleus. 
Me and a straight buddy back in the day lol

Why can't many of us gay men achieve intimacy with each other? Why do many of us find solace in relationships with straight men? Many may call us names, judging us and assuming we just want to conquer straight man drawls, however the heterosexual male, brings us REAL intimacy, real friendships. For many of us, we simply cannot find the same camaraderie with other gay men. You and your straight buddy are a beautiful miscegenation of two worlds, that aren't so different after all. He gets lonely, and so do you, the void is filled but not completely, because the world has told us that SEX is all encompassing. 

See, what I have with my straight friend, is a real relationship. I'll never speak of it as such to him, but spiritually, that is what it is. I am not delusional, however I know that sex is not necessary when it comes to souls merging. I of course still want love with a gay man, but I will always have my straight buddy, who gives me late nights without worrying if sex will ruin things. He TAKES ME AS I AM, while profile number seventeen, wishes I were more masculine. He pats me on my back, encourages me, while they scream, "no fats, no fems" and my "Date" looks disinterested when he realizes I make less than him. 

We break each other down as a community, meanwhile, there is an array of straight men who come into our lives prepared to build. A lot of straight men cannot be intimate with each other due to societies bullshit programming. Quiet as it's kept, many straight men seek gay men to be friends with because they are often unable to unravel to their straight buds and afraid to be vulnerable to their women who often want them to only listen to their shit. 

The gay/straight man relationship is an enigma to the world but one of the best kept secrets because it is one of the strongest bonds known to humanity. We make an excellent partnership, not only because women love gay men and straight men can benefit, but because we are MEN at the end of the day. MEN who wish to express themselves with other men. MEN who no matter who they sleep with, have similar desires. We are carnal beasts with a warm sensitive center. 

Yes straight men can find straight best buddies, but they can also find a gay buddy who won't freak out over a hug that lasts too long. Secretly, all men want to be hugged, no matter if he is in Hell's Angels or Chippendales. 

One day, I hope to find the level of intimacy that I have built with my straight buddies with a gay man. Because then, it will be coupled with sex...But that always feels like I am asking the universe for too much. Sex, intimacy and love? 

For now, I'll meet my bro at his place, where he will change my oil for me then take me out to the movies. This time, we are seeing what he wants to see, "The Martian", he's such a dork. 

If he were gay, I'd be jacking him off during the film, but he's not. (Kidding) That's right, instead I will be enjoying a witty conversation after the film instead of a shitty ass with a porn movie in the background. 

Ah, the beautiful intimacy I share with my straight buddies, and the uninspiring hookups I have with gay men from the internet.