Saturday, January 28, 2012

Soulful Saturday - BlackStreet

To fit into the Guy mode from the last Soulful Saturday, here is a group that was put together by Teddy Riley in the early 90s at the height of the New Jack Swing era. What kind of music did they make, you ask? Baby making music. Examples below... Happy Saturday!

Before I Let You Go

Don't Leave Me, Girl


And, the CLASSIC: No Diggity :) (which came out the year I graduated from high school, so I automatically love it more than most, that and they are singing about me... I'm convinced!)

Friday, January 27, 2012

Fed Up Friday - A Week of Disrespect

This Fed Up Friday should not NEED to be written, but here I am, doing my angry fast typing because of foolishness running ramped. The things that I am about to say are absolutely common sense, but as my parents have said on more than one occasion-- common sense is not so common. It is so surreal that people need to be reminded that their rude behavior is unacceptable... good thing I like to point it out and correct these mofos ASAP. If you happen to be one of the people that I have to correct, I'm going to have my mother "the church lady" pray for you-- because you clearly need some divine intervention for being a MORON. Please be offended, if necessary because I meant that.

Week In Review:

Kyle Williams and Death Threats:

Um, wow. So I am NOT a fan of Kenny Williams. As the GM of the Chicago White Sox, I think he is a cocky bastard and he needs to be fired. With that smug, shit eating grin on his face all the time-- eh, makes me want to punch him on sheer principle. When I saw his name in the news this week, I immediately shook my head and wondered what that asshole did THIS time- only to find out that his 23 year old son was getting death threats for two fumbles in this week's NFL game? Wait, what?!?!
Ok- how deranged do you have to be to actually send death threats to someone because they dropped a ball? I mean, was that ball the last hope you had with breathing? Was someone threatening your children/wife/husband/parents if the 49ers lost? Was world peace hanging in the balance? Oh, no? Then get over yourself, Jesus! This boy is 23 and fumbles or not, you got nothing except an adrenaline rush out of that game. People take this shit too seriously. You didn't see me going ape shit when my Ohio State Buckeyes suffered a loss to a completely sub par team from a northern state this year, did you? And if I can get over THAT, you should be fine. And if you can't get over the 49ers loss without wishing DEATH on a person, pay very close attention... You.Need.Help.

Joe Paterno

Here is where I am going to lose some people. I'm ok with that. Joe Paterno dies on Sunday. His family had visitation for three days and a funeral. The comments that people left on articles about him; the "protesters" are absolutely reprehensible. OMG. There is so much I could say about this situation... what I will say is this: clearly, funerals are not for the DEAD fucker in the casket. Funerals are for the loved ones of that person. Joe Paterno was not sitting there enjoying his OWN fucking funeral. His wife was there, reflecting on the man that she was married to since 1962. His children were there; his grandchildren. How dare you get on your high horses and ruin that day for THEM? No matter what you felt/thought of Joe Paterno (which, by the way, should not be anything negative) you should at least have the decency to let his family grieve without putting up with assholes. Some people are as bad as those dummies who protest military funerals. Why protest someone who died for your freedoms? Why protest someone you don't know, never met and only know through what the media has presented? Be fucking decent human beings and extend his family some common courtesy. If protesting funerals was at ALL acceptable (which it is NOT) imagine what people would say about you. That should keep your ass quiet, huh?

President Obama and Jan Brewer

Ok- I have to deep breathe on this subject because this TOPS the list for absurdity. By now everyone has seen Jan Brewer shaking her decrepit finger in President Obama's face saying that SHE felt threaten by him. (I repeat in my head that I will NOT pull the race card- racial stereotypes from the "Birth of a Nation" era... I will NOT). What the fuck is this bitch smoking? I am not even going to consider her "I felt threatened" argument and I want you to think about the following sentence VERY carefully. Ready? Sure? I have NEVER in my whole life seen a PRESIDENT of the United States ROUTINELY treated with such disrespect. Barack Obama is the President. You don't shake your fucking finger at the President. Why didn't the Secret Service guys shoot her? What if the President felt threatened? Routinely, he is called "Mr. Obama" on television, people boo him, congress people call him a liar, and act like they have NO sense. He is not Mr. Obama. That is for some fucker on the street. His official name is "Mr. President." The same is true for that very slow George W. Bush, his dad, Bill Clinton and everyone else that has ever held the office. People turned out in droves to elect him and if I had to put up with 8 years of W and his questionable intelligence, and people telling me not to call him a moron because he is our President, then that bitch Brewer could at least be civil. I know that President Obama said it wasn't a big deal... you know what that is? Grace. And if I were him, my grace would be waning. Fuck that hoe. She would be in jail or recuperating from a taser shock. People think they can just say/do anything they want. Jan Brewer, Congress and you radicals better understand something- President Obama deserves a modicum of respect- at least to his face. If/When he gets elected again... I hate to be that hoe, because somehow, I think she is going to regret the day that she wagged that crypt keeper, bony finger at the sitting President of the United States.

Monday, January 23, 2012

New Year, New Hair & Being Resolute

Last week I wrote about doing actual work for the betterment of our community. I talked about people who were really good at talking, but NOT so good at DOING. And what kind of blogger/person/sassy bitch would I be if all I did was talk with no action? Here we are- just over three weeks into 2012; already the gym faithful are beginning to dwindle in numbers. Already, some of us have begun to reassess (read: forget) why certain resolutions were so important just 23 days ago.

Guess who is not falling into that category? Ding, ding if you said Miss Mox! Here is the BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: I am fundraising and shaving my head for St. Baldrick's this year!!! You read that right!! I am going out on a limb for little people (read: kids) that are battling cancer. I have not had to fight a battle with cancer myself, but I suspect that road is rough--rougher, I'd imagine, for a child. Cancer is something that no one should have to face alone, least of all a child, so as part of my new action filled year, I am going to help some of the smallest people in our village fight one of the biggest diseases out there.

If you look to the right, you'll see a countdown to my event-- I have until March 10, 2012 to fundraise and I am hoping to surpass my $300 goal. Feel free to contribute and if you are in/near Chicago, please stop by on the day of the event. I am going to bribe one of my friends to videotape my haircut so I can hopefully post the results!! If you want to participate, please go to and search for an event in your area. Let's all make this a year of ACTION!!!

See below for details about St. Baldricks and why this organization is so important! Go HERE to make a donation!

Friday, January 20, 2012

Fed Up Friday - Not Black Enough

DISCLAIMER: there WILL be cursing. There will be a lot of cursing. You have been warned. Do not continue reading if your eyes cannot handle that. Do NOT send me emails about cleaning up my language because I will respond with the most simple answer: Fuuuuuuuucccccccckkkkkk You.

OK- deep breaths, deep breaths. In the past couple of days, my blackness has been questioned. Not the first time that has happened, won't be the last. But this is the first time (and possibly the last) that I will address it head on in this blog. Now we all know that I am really not put back by people's opinions of me. I REALLY could give two fucks if someone doesn't like me or my opinions. I know that it has become trendy to say that, but I mean it. I have been like this as long as I can remember; as long as my friends can remember; as long as my mother can remember-- and that is from the beginning of my time. I am telling you, if everyone decided not to read this blog, comment, be my friend on facebook/twitter/MySpace -- it ain't making or breaking me. It is cool to have a small following, but the fluctuating number, disagreements and misinterpretations? I couldn't care less. With that said, I am going to list a couple things that I will NEVER put up with... I am never going to put up with someone talking shit about my family (blood or friends); not putting up with someone taking advantage of my (rare) showings of kindness; not putting up with blatant ignorance (keep that shit to yourself); and I refuse (REFUSE) to put up with people questioning me. All parts of me. There will be no questioning of my intelligence, my loyalty, my intentions and definitely NOT my race.

There is no debating it- I'm Black. When people see me, without knowing anything about me, they will automatically assume things about me. Once people hear me speak, some of those assumptions change. Once people see who I am dating, the assumptions change yet again. I have been told that I am an Uncle Tom, I'm trying to be a white girl, acting white- talking white, I'm the whitest white girl that someone knows, I couldn't possibly know the plight of Black America; of Africans (that was a YouTube fight); of ghetto dwellers; of a Black woman looking for a Black man... blah, blah, fucking blah. To anyone that has EVER said that shit to me- FUCK off, jackasses. I don't fit your definition of what you think a Black woman should be, so I am not Black enough? Kiss my ass, the pink part, bitches. That is so ridiculous that I have a hard time putting into words how ignorant people have to be to actually voice those opinions. You think that your definition of a Black woman is the only one that matters or exists? You think that I have a duty to fulfill your expectations? Bitch, please. You think that because I am Black that I have to date a Black man? Stay out of my business and my bedroom. You think that I have to speak a certain way, have a certain number of children and a certain education. Because my first musical choice isn't hip hop; because I've never been arrested; because I don't have a ghetto mentality, I am not Black enough for you? Fuuuuccccccckkkkk you. If I have to be stereotypical then fuck you, I don't want to be Black.

I do me. I do me well. Dark skin does not mean that I have to only have a high school education, bastard kids, snapping my fingers, twerking my damn neck, popping my gum and being loud like fucking Wendy Williams. Fuck you and the horse that you rode in on for putting me in a small ass category, you small minded bastard. I have PAID my fucking "Black dues." I get followed in stores, get pulled over for NO reason, get talked to like I am fucking deficient, get called the "n" word, get asked how many kids I have... and I also get those sly fucking non-compliments: "Oh, you speak so well." "You express yourself so professionally." "Oh, I am not racist, I have 3 Black friends, we hang out all the time." Bitch! I speak so well? As opposed to what? What, you saw Friday and thought that every woman with melanin was going to speak like Craig's girlfriend? I am so professional... as opposed to fucking what? My non-professional, white co-worker? You have 3 Black friends? Three whole Black friends? Good for you, now go ask THOSE three assholes if you can touch their hair- because no bitch, you can not touch mine. Go ask them all the questions you ask me that begin with "I'm not trying to be racist, BUT..." Go ask your three other Black friends.

And for you simple minded Black jackasses: I do not have to speak the ghetto lingo to be a part of your group. I don't have to listen to YOUR music, I don't have to be in a gang or go to Africa and claim a tribe, have a baby daddy, call fellow Blacks the "n" words as a fucking greeting, take every offer for a hook up made by some "bruh" standing on the corner. I don't have to agree with Jesse Jackson or even Barack to be considered Black "enough". I don't have to be some stereotypical Black woman, looking for love in all the wrong places, lamenting over wine with my girlfriends about how there are no good Black men left for me, or taking some sub-par asshole because as a Black woman he is all I could get and I should be happy. I don't have to do that. Because: I AM ENOUGH. Enough of everything. The fact that Black America actually has the conversation about "acting white" or calling people traitors to the Black race are signs that we have not come far enough. How dare you judge my fucking daily walk as a Black woman? You don't know me or my fucking struggles. You don't know what I have had to overcome to get where I am. You don't know ME. You've been to Africa? Good for fucking you. You grew up in the ghetto? So the fuck what?! You fulfill every stereotype that there is for an angry Black woman or an overstimulated, oversexed, angry Black man. Fine. But here is the bottom line: if a crime happens and the police pull in all the Black people in the area-- I'm getting pulled in, right alongside your dumb ass... because I am Black-- enough. I don't fit your description, so broaden your fucking horizons. Because no matter how much you hate it, the truth is: I am the girl that you WISH your fucking son COULD bring home. I am the example that you wish your oldest kid would set. I am a well rounded, intelligent, cleaver, sarcastic, beautiful, successful, sassy BLACK woman... I know who I am. I LOVE who I am... so roll with me or get rolled over. I am enough (of everything). I am Black enough and don't question that ever again.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Living the Dream?

Today, facebook and twitter were full of quotes by Martin Luther King, Jr. People changed their profile pictures to that of MLK and videos of the "I have a Dream" speech were posted. I am not typing this because I was ultra inspired. I have to say, I wasn't. I feel like people get the day off (um, not me) and they just go about their regularly scheduled lives and do not do anything remotely close to celebrate the reason that they have the day off. It is kind of like Veterans Day, right. Thousands of people change their profile pics to service men and women and say thank you for your service, but no one is headed down to the VFW to participate in fundraising or anything like that. Same feeling today; I mean I heard the lip service and I know some of you just chilled on the couch all day.

So, I'm not writing this to make people feel bad, I guess that my question is plain: what will YOU do? MLK was around in a time of turmoil- people were dying and there was a war for civil rights of American citizens being waged in almost every town in America. We are alive during a time when our neighbors need help to LIVE, civil rights are being violated across the board, people are dying (we still have soldiers in Afghanistan-- for all of you about to tell me that the war is over, it is not), more than 30% of the people living below the poverty line are children, crime is up, foreclosure rates are still sky high, the number of employed Americans has (finally) started to go up, but unemployment is still at 8.5% nationwide, our government and close minded American citizens are continuing a well established war on the poor of our country, schools are falling apart, our educational system is failing our children-- the list goes on and on. So what are you going to do? Who are you going to help?

Let's be clear, dreams are so cool to have, but can't come true without work. Even the Bible says that "faith, without works, is dead." In other words, things aren't just going to happen. Dr. King's dream isn't going to come true while you are sitting on your ass watching Maury. People aren't going to judge you on your character if you are standing on the corner every day, up to no good. Dreams can't come true if all you do is write them down. We need action. We need actors. We need the fervor or the 60s to light a fire under our lazy asses. We need to get out into the community and call for discrimination to stop; call for education to be properly financed; call for Congress to do what is right for the betterment of American citizens, not the fat cat lobbyists that pay them in kickbacks. We need someone who is willing to take a chance. Is that someone you?

You know, throughout the whole Occupy Wall Street movement, my opinion was not always favorable for those in the streets, sleeping in parks and picketing, HOWEVER, I respect those people because they DID SOMETHING. They participated. They saw an injustice and were vocal about it. They made it so that corporate America would have to listen, if just for a short while, they were not ignored. We need some more people willing to stand up and say when something is not right. We need more people who are willing to put it on the line, like MLK and his contemporaries. We need some more people who aren't just going to look out for their own interests, but also for the interests of their neighbors; we need someone that will stand up and fight for what they believe in to make their dreams come true. Is that someone you? If not, why not? Get up. Get your head out of the sand. Realize that at some point if you don't look out for someone besides yourself, sooner or later, there will be no one left to look out for you. So again I ask, what are you willing to do? What steps have you taken to guide the dream into a place where it can become a reality? What children have you helped mold? (You should start with your own and move out into your community, just an FYI). Have you helped your community or are you a burden? Have you abused the rights that people fought and died for, just 40 years ago? Do you know someone who needs help that you just constantly ignore? Do you have resources to lend? Advice to give? What are you willing to do? What dreams have you let fall by the wayside because you are just too scared to make it happen?

Give more than lip service. Give yourself, so that the dream has a chance to live on-- a chance to actually make a difference-- a chance to be more than just a video we watch on YouTube, once a year. A chance to be more than just familiar words that we recite the second week in January and teach our kids for Black History Month. It is so plain to see that we need more than that. We deserve more than that and all we need is ONE person who is willing to live a dream, to sacrifice, to care about someone other than himself... Will it be you?

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Random Bitter Musings about a Bitter Saturday Night

Just a few tips for the crazies that I saw last night. The span of these happenings was about 45 minutes, which makes me question the sanity of some of my fellow Chicagoans... or maybe it is me? Either way, it made for an... interesting kind of night. Yeah, this entry should probably be under Fed Up Friday, but it happened on Saturday, so there you go.

Dear lady breathing super hard next to me on the el: First, seriously, there are literally hundreds of other places you could have sat on this train. This train is not crowded. Why are you sitting RIGHT next to me? Is it for body warmth? If so, we probably should have agreed that you would wash your body BEFORE you plopped down next to me, invading my space. I don't care WHY you are breathing hard, just know that you are disrupting my silent reading time, while depositing cooties on my person. If I wake up, and heavy breathe just one time tomorrow, I will wish some other plague on you... like seriously maybe a shower, or some breath mints. I hate riding the train with weirdos.

Dear dude asking for money on the corner: 1- I saw you with a cup overflowing with cash about 2 hours ago, now you have two cups- one with steaming hot Starbucks coffee in it and one for the change that you want from me. 2- something is wrong with this picture because one of my new years resolutions is to make more coffee and spend less money at expensive ass Starbucks, but now a man asking me for money is taunting me with the most expensive coffee on the planet? I just can't. I would have totally given you the 63 cents in my pocket if that were a McDonald's coffee cup. I mean, $1 for any size coffee shows that you are economical. $4+ for a fru fru drink from Starbucks? Not so much.

Dear old guy asking me for my number at the train station: Yo, here is the deal: I expect it from you now. I get off at two train stations in my neighborhood, have seen you a LOT, so I am well versed what I am going to get when I encounter you. You are messing up your moment. Do NOT say "hey darling, you are looking so fine today" when I am wearing yoga pants, salty winter boots and the pom poms that dangle off my super thick socks are now dangling from my boots. Not when I am having a natural hair disaster and am comatose from sitting next to smelly Sally on the train. You take away the special. I know I don't look fine today. Save it. Save it for a day when I am looking so fabulous that everyone HAS to comment. Or at least save it for a day when I don't want to punch everyone in the face? Yes. Safety first!

Dear Redbox: Sigh- Oh you have been a gift and a curse. I appreciate the ease of renting, and mostly everything touchscreen, however there HAS to be a way that we can make these touchscreens work while I still have on my gloves. And not those fancy, schmancy $30 gloves either. I'm talking gloves that keep my hands super warm that I ultimately have to take off to work the RedBox. This is Chicago, dammit!! It is winter. My movie watching decision should not rest solely on whatever I can choose on the first page of options so that I can get my fingers back in my gloves as fast as possible. It makes for a MoneyBall watching evening... and I haven't liked Brad Pitt since he took up with that super skinny bitch with the big lips- I'm not even typing out that hoochie's name. Needless to say, I narrowly kept my fingers attached to my hand (frostbite is real!) and now I am stuck with some shitty movie that better be good or my animosity towards to once lovely Brad Pitt (think nakedness on Troy) will grow exponentially.

Dear people taking up the WHOLE sidewalk: Get out of the way, fuckers. I can see you, so I KNOW you can see me. Your conversation about whether or not Khloe is, in fact, actually is a Kardashian is not world altering so move your punk asses over! I wouldn't give you a pass if you were talking about nuclear physics, do that shit in a single file line when you see someone coming from the opposite direction, you rude assholes. You have to take up the WHOLE sidewalk? You bitches HAVE to carry those large ass bags? I seriously want to push you into oncoming traffic.

And that was Saturday night.

I might need to give anger management a whirl in 2012. Nah, it couldn't possibly be me, right?! Nah! :)

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Soulful Saturday - Guy

Annnnnnnnnd, I'm back!! It is the second Saturday of the new year and I am (finally) posting a Soulful Saturday. Chicago has finally gotten some snow and has been hit with some "cozy up" weather, so why not have some music to assist in the cozying up, right? Right!
The late 80s and early 90s were inundated with New Jack Swing groups like Guy-- ok, that and bad fashion (think MC Hammer, big high top fades, bare chests and horrible color combinations. Oh and Jheri Curls, OMG!) They were everywhere! They were even on the soundtrack of THE most New Jack Swing movie ever made-- New Jack City. Teddy Riley went on to be a big producer (think BlackStreet) and Aaron Hall went solo for a bit (see below). All in all, Guy is a great way to start of the year. Enjoy!

Let's Chill

Wanna Get With You

Is that fringe? Please, say no... damn.

Spend The Night

Piece of My Love

No, it does NOT get much better than this. Love, love, love it!

I Miss You (Aaron Hall)

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