Tuesday, October 26, 2010


You fuck in graveyards while gazing up at imaginary rainbows.
Intangible pride.
You are the black faggot
Lower your head
Keep your promiscuous evil in your own bed.

Heathanist, unnatural colored faggot, don't step foot in the church or you'll get burned
Hypocritical Pastor sends you all to a Hell, worse than what you already live in.
Your own coloreds reject you, bury you.

We are all around you... sometimes in a whisper, other times in a roar.
Together we resemble a resilience to a storm
But colors mask darkness.

These are our stories. If you don't ask, we won't tell.
But journey into our ravaged minds.

This is who we were...

...before we committed suicide.

Delano The Prettyboy: At seventeen I was light skinned, a veteran of sex, lies and rape. Stereotypically fine; that is for a black faggot.
The boys at church thought I walked funny, like a "sissy." Church mothers told me take up some sports with hard sarcasm in their eyes.
Sunday school taught me about Rosa Parks, all those civil rights leaders, but I didn't feel apart of it. Especially since the sunday school teacher constantly told me to cut my nails.

By high school, I was attracted to masculine men, real men like heterosexuals. But these men wouldn't love me, they'd feign love with their erect dicks and slow jams for ambiance. Tinted cars, midnight rendezvous; He said he loved me, they said they loved me, but couldn't show it boldly, universally. Love spread wide open in a one bedroom apartment in the late of night, a weeknight so his girl would think he was sleeping for an early work day. I thought this was love between men, how a faggot should behave. I thought my body was my soul.

They'd come from behind, sizing me up, taking me back to dark rooms and afterward, they'd sweep me away with brooms. His hands rudely grabbed every strand of my curly long locks. Hard disrespectful man, led to an assembly line of torment. At eight teen he infected me but I was already diseased, or so they'd say. Freshman in college, senior in pain; I was poison. Branded for life by a disrespectful man who exploded my self hatred and shame. He would never call me by my name. He fucked me before his basketball game. I remember him, everytime I open the pill bottles twice a day. I've been called a prettyboy, handsome, but I've never been called amazing. My hand never been held, my soul neglected, my caramel skin exploited. My unsatisfied girlfriend enraged by the revelation. It was too much, a billion flames all over my body. Moms loved me regardless, even cried with me, held me. Dad turned away, said he wasn't dad to me. I was lonely. I wanted God to rescue me. Take me.

I let go and let God on my dormitory floor. Insense burning.

Tyson The downlow homo thug: Shawty was phat like that, had an ass I could grab on to while I dug deep in her guts with my thick nine purple dick. She screamed from the pleasure, yea I had them bitches whipped, addicted. They'd be all up in the salon reliving the conquest. My niggas would stand around me, ya know, thinkin' I was the man cuz' I always booked the baddest bitches and wore the flyest shit. I made a king pin look like a faggot. Lil fruity ass niggas would walk up and down my block, I wouldn't let em' get close. Wouldn't let one of them faggots look me in the eye.
He worked in the salon, did my girls hair once or twice. He said he wanted that fire, and shit, a sale is a sale. Money talks. He blew on the blunt, then blew on me...In the alley. My girl's best friend, Keisha, lost her bitch ass dog, musta ran in the alley. I didn't have time to get away, wasn't like she was wearing her stilettos like she usually did. Her Puma's barely made a sound against the pavement. The fag was on his knees and I was trying to get my True's up. Keisha screamed, "What the fuck?! You a faggot?" I'd never been called that in my life.
I'm a G.
I strangled that bitch. The fag ran away. The next morning, my girl told me what the salon faggot saw with his own eyes and the apology that he gave her.

I grabbed my .45

I always thought I'd die in the streets, but I was my own victim. What the fuck else could I do?

My manhood was compromised, I wasn't the faggot they'd think I was. I wouldn't have lived past the barber shop.

I didn't die like a G. But I would've lived a life as a faggot.

To the streets; Yo, I didn't mean for it to end like this.

No chalk outline, just my girl screaming.

But fuck what anyone say, I'm Tyson, King of the Streets, Slayer of the pussy.

Christian The ugly queen: I aint never have a problem with who I was. In middle school I had lip gloss, mase and a black belt. I wished a bitch would try me.

Cigarettes. I remember the burn.

The late queen from that other House was trying to slay me on the floor, she was mad because I got the trophy and she got embarassed. After the club, I was with my friends, laughing, I was in a good mood as always. Here come this late queen with her fake Gucci's and yellow teeth, coming for me. I grabbed my mase, but before I could spray, she dotted my face with the cigarette. It burned, everything went hazy then black. "Fat queen!" Thats all I kept hearing but shit I heard that my entire life. I got home past curfew because of that queen. Came home with burns all over my face. My brother called me a disgrace and punched me in my face. My mother said I deserved it and that all us faggots are animals. She always said that God was punishing her for having sex out of wedlock. I was her burden. She called me her burden. She handed me a bag and told me to pack. Started talking in that Jamaican dialect that I could never understand. She threw a Bible in the bag and threw her burden out in the streets.

I was homeless.

I was ugly.

I was fat.

I had diabetes.

And my so-called friends never helped me with those cigarette burns.

I took a stroll down the Brooklyn Bridge but I never got to the other side.

Inspired by real people, real situations.

Dedicated to all of us who never knew how to embrace ourselves

because no one told us that it was ok to do so.

Self love can save us all.

Love yourself. It's contagious.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Reading the Real "Housewives" of Atlanta

Noticed any changes on the Real Housewives of Atlanta?
They're essentially replacements for the other two boring frauds, oops I mean wives, from the previous seasons...

Exit Lisa Woo Hartwell and Deshawn Snow. Enter stuck up prudish bitch #1 and 2

Phaedra Parks, a successful attorney, has represented "numerous" (pushing it) famous celebrities including Bobby Brown, but on the show, all we see her working with so far is some thug looking loser who has a marijuana possession charge. Do high profile attorneys represent such minor people with such minor offenses? I mean the guy looked like Red Kool Aid is his version of a Bloody Mary, I'm just saying. Phadrea does add some entertaining drama. She's polorizing like Kim Zolciak but not as triflin. She's a holier than thou, eye shadow overusing, diva bitch disguised as a southern bell. And her husband, though sexy, is more boring than she is, the most exciting thing about him is his tatted up biceps and criminal record. He's clearly not as successful nor as driven as she is. (usually walking around the kitchen in a tank top while she gets ready for work) I get the feeling that he married her to get access to the most beautiful women of Atlanta. ...Their pocket books that is... If he lands a more profitable vagina, he will divorce the bitch in a hot-flash. However, Phaedra did mention that he signed a pre-nup....Why she felt she had to divulge that information is beyond me. Sounds like a bitch is insecure. I'm just saying.

Cynthia Bailey is a self proclaimed super model who I've never seen or paid attention to, talking about she's been up there on the runway with the top models. She may have been but her personality sure hasn't garnered her Tyra or Kimora attention where she can hold her own on a reality show. She can't even hold my attention between blinks. The first few episodes barely even feature the bitch and when we do see her, she's bitching about how a guy wants to propose to her. (I can't even get dinner and a movie from a guy) She aint married, yet she's on a show about housewives, of course a lot of these "housewives" aren't married, but this bitch doesn't even want to get married nor is a divorcee like many of the others.
Cynthia and her commitment issues can be kicked off like yesterday!

Sheree finds herself a new man whose got a fat doctor bank account and a balding phenomenon that I've never witnessed before. A landing strip right down the center of his head, so pronounced, that I was waiting for Air Force One to land. Yes we can! And yes I did!

Nene opened the season with a hot breathed "you gave Greg 10 thousand dollars!?" rampage at a function; however it made me wonder if she was trying to pull what got Sheree so much attention last season. Remember the party planner? Yea the first episode was all about Sheree, and now this first episode was all about Nene and her attack on a defenseless little gay hobbit, oops I mean Dwight. (Calm down I'm gay!)

Is Greg sticking his AARP penis in Dwight's Latoya Jackson asshole on the downlow? I'm just asking...

Kim Zolciak and Kandi, the delusional "pop stars" of the show, provided musical interludes thoughout the season, but other than that, they were disposable. Kim provided some usual drama and if it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have been able to enjoy the eye candy at the gay white party that she performed her annoying, overplayed club hit "Tardy for the Party." She was almost tardy for her own damn performance in which Kandi ended up over-shadowing her in.
***Note to Kim, DON'T ASK A DEFUNCT R&B STAR TO ACCOMPANY YOU ON STAGE, THE BITCH IS LIKELY TO UPSTAGE YOU! (Kandi somehow thought that the gay shirtless dancers behind her were the ladies of Xscape)

It seems that every Bravo show has to have a token Queen (flamboyant homosexual)
And in ATL Housewives we get 2!
Dwight and the other Queen, forget her name, Sheree's hairstylist, informed Sheree quite matter-of-factly that Dwight is a "STUNT QUEEN" Which is popular terminology in the gay lifestyle defined as a person whose not as wealthy as they put on. Dwight wears polyester but if anyone asks, it's silk. He may have assisted with a few things at Sheree's fashion show last year, but if anyone asks, he spent $30,000 on the show. CATCH MY DRIFT...? Good.

And finally, I have to say that this season was not as exciting as season two, between Nene's televised nose job and Kandi's convenient musical endeavors, it seemed that the "Housewives" of Atl were a bit desperate this season.

Monday, October 4, 2010


"Have a baby by me baby, be a millionaire," was a hit song by gangster rapper 50 Cent that has since become an appropriate anthem for the era. A few years ago R&B singer Neyo, (who sang the hook on "Baby by Me") uplifted women with songs like "Miss Independent" and "You make me better," but it seemed to have fallen upon deaf ears and/or was overshadowed by the era of women having "babies by him" and becoming "millionaires" with fat child support checks that not only pay for the child's diapers, but for mommy's Coach bags and Jimmy Choos.
50 Cent was no doubt commenting on the rich-baby-daddy example that many of the hip-hop industries leading men seem to be. Who are their baby mamas? Defunct singers and actresses who can't get the lead role or the hit song.
What's the message that many young girls are getting? If you can't be "Miss Independent" then "have a baby by him and become a millionaire." A smart fix or a beginning of a disastrous trend?
Hip Hops 21st century rap king, Lil Wayne (Wayne Carter) delivered another womanizing hit in 2009 called "Every girl" where he candidly admitted that he would indeed like to "fuck" every girl in the world. The irony or in my opinion, tackiness of it all, was that in his reality it would seem that he indeed was fucking every girl in the world. When the song hit the charts, Mr. Carter had two women pregnant at the same time. Lauren London, a beautiful bi-racial "actress" (a stretch) who starred in the film "ATL" and has-been R&B singer Nivea whose claim to fame was singing about Laundromats and telling bitches not to "mess with her man." Well, honey, it looks like a bitch did mess with your man, and not just Lauren London, Lil Wayne has been linked to several models, video vixens and glamorized whores over his entire career, yet women like Nivea open their legs and gestate a baby that is just one product of Weezy's busy penis that is no doubt continuing to fuck every girl in the world.
And the most embarrassing part was that Mr. Carter was not in a committed relationship with either of the women, sure after they got pregnant did he put lipstick on the pig named Nivea, but she was still a pig or dare I say it, industry whore.
Nivea Hamilton, (age 28) of all people should have known better. This is the same woman who pumped out babies by successful R&B singer and producer The Dream (Terius Nash) Oh she was married to him? Sure she was married to him, but for less than three years. Three years of cheating. However during her cheating, she managed to have Dream's babies; Navy Talia (born May 10, 2005) and twin boys Chris and London (born 2006) Notice how one of their kids is named London, what foresight. I will not decrease the humanity of the children, they are innocent, but I will scrutinize the ratchetness of their industry whore mother. Shall we continue? We shall.
Coming to no surprise Nivea and her ATM machine divorced in 2007 so that she could properly continue to take Lil Wayne's rich black rapper dick. In late 2009, she birthed another baby, this time a bastard child named Neal and Lauren London released Weezy's other bastard, not long after.
The ratchetness didn't end there. Oh no, Christina Milian decided that Mr. Man-boobs AKA The Dream was going to pay her as well and they married early 2009, had a baby and soon divorced, this time due to The Dream who publically cheated with a woman who worked for him. They divorced and Christina, another R&B has-been like Nivea, became yet another industry baby mama child support check recipient.
It would be one thing if these women were workin their asses off and just happened to stumble on some late night drunken dick unprotected, but these women were unemployed, fired by their lables and in Laurens depressing case, overlooked by Hollywood casting agents. They were publically desperate and irresponsibly foolish.
And they STILL don't have jobs.
Especially Lauren. At least Nivea comes out with some cheap music videos once in a while with her half naked baby daddy Wayne. After birthing her bastard by Weezy, Lauren decided that her vagina needed more rich seed. Oh yes, she has a newborn and she can't stay out of Trey Songz bedroom long enough to give her baby a pasterfier.
That's right, Lauren London is ALLEGEDLY pregnant again with R&B star Trey Songz, seed.
But to anyone whose seen her in a maternity dress, its more than an allegation.
Ok slow down you say, don't put all the blame on the women. Yes there are cases like Halle Berry, who in her early 40s gets cum dumped into her aging vagina by a less successful European model who now enjoys VIP seating at night clubs and being a paid nanny for his own offspring. The Halle Berry pussy juice scented checks that he enjoys is a minority in the grand scheme of the game and in what young girls witness in the headlines. Young girls are using these women as examples, once it was the video vixen who got rich off of her falatio skills, nowadays it's, "fuck giving blowjobs, pop out some babies and tie that niggas Black Card to your account for life!"
Yes, young women are girating their Nicki Minaj asses in the clubs to "Daddy" by Twista. Yes, Twista profoundly instructs women that they need to call his fat sweaty ass daddy so that he can make it rain on them. No women, you don't need to get jobs and climb a corporate ladder, just call him daddy and make him a daddy. Have a bastard child and become a millionaire.
The message is all wrong and Neyo tried to save a hoe but it didn't work. Nicki came in with her insulting body image and Lauren and Nivea sold their uterus's in front of curious high school girls. These high schoolers sing along to Lil Wayne's "Every Girl" while watching little pubescent girls dance to the song on a 2009 BET award show next to Lil Wayne who included his own impressionable daughter in the controversial performance. These high school girls then proceed to call men daddy in the club that they used their fake ID to get into.
Babies are precious, innocent and full of potential, they do not represent their parents mistakes, but if they grow up in an environment of half brothers and sisters and drug using/women abusing musicians, then their outlook on the progression of life is bound to be a bit flawed.
The music industry is worse than Satan at this point. It spews out negative messages that aren't even subliminal. The lyrics to the music dictate that young girls allow Wayne and his possy to fuck them and young boys who listen to this crap are inspired to become these ballers who make their hoes rich off their dick. Buying a woman a "Make up Bag" as The Dream puts it, is not what the message should be. Women are not just something to buy and children should not equate to pay day. Women like defunct R&B singer Kelis are in the headlines moreso for their uterus and rich baby daddy than for their art form and contribution to humanity. The contribution that many young women are told to give to the world is a PHAT ASS and an OPEN MOUTH. Then write a book about it and get paid from the child support checks and the book sales.
This is a state of emergency for our youth an for the music/film industry.
We are all responsible for ourselves and our own children but lets be real, the celebrities do have a major impression on the youth, moreso than their parents/guardians who aren't home as much nowadays because they hold two or three jobs with this recession we are in. Children nowadays aren't looking like children at all with their style of dress and fast talking lips. They have I phones and blackberries that give them access to "HOEBOOK" and all things adult.
This is not meant to be a sermon moreso a list of observations but I will leave you with this; We are all responsible for each other. We are one humanity.