thepottymouthgranny

Eight Years Without Prince💜💜💜

On this day eight years ago, the world lost one of the greatest musicians of all time, Prince. His music was the soundtrack of my childhood, my teenage years, young adulthood years, and my grown ass woman life, and the world has been a dull, gray mess without his presence.

He was a man who wore high heel boots, eyeliner, and flowing hair, but he didn’t care about the opinions of others. He lived his life according to his own rules, and lived it with gusto and pizazz. I like to believe that he’s not really dead but somewhere living in another galaxy, smiling down upon the ninnies of Earth. Sigh.

Continue to rest peacefully baby cakes💋💋💋

A Book!!!

I just published an ebook and would love some support. Please support my book and the link is below.

The Change of Life As Told By A Middle-Age Around the Way Girl https://a.co/d/8dbo3kB

Love

Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.

A positive thing a family member has done for me was to love me unconditionally, and it’s more than just one family member, but several. My matriarchs from my mother’s side of the family loved and nurtured me, and although they are no longer here in the body, their spirits are still alive, cloaking me in their love and protection.

Fighting for My Life

The first three months of 2024 have been interesting to say the least. I resigned from a government position back in November due to not being able to fulfill the requirements of the job because I have permanent short term memory loss due to the medication I take for epilepsy. But I found another job but I got laid off due to automation.

So I decided to file for unemployment benefits and was initially denied but after an administrative hearing, I received my money. During this time, I filed a grievance against my healthcare provider because they refused to pay for one of my medications because it cost $1500 per month but after a lot of red tape, I won that grievance and received my medication.

Now here’s the topper. Monday, I received a letter from the Department of Human Services stating that I was no longer eligible to receive Medicaid coverage because I make too much money from my meager unemployment benefits. Yes. I make too much money in unemployment benefits to receive Medicaid.

I am so damn tired of fighting for basic human rights. The medicine I need to survive. The unemployment benefits that I earned. The healthcare system that I need to see my neurologist as an epileptic who can barely function. I have worked since I was 17 years old. I’m not some bum trying to live off government subsidies. I put money into this system. Paid taxes to fund wars and all types of things but when I need help, fuck me. America. But in good news, I have straight As this semester so far so I’m obviously not the lazy bitch that many would think I am.

I worked after getting diagnosed with epilepsy. Tired as fuck, brain totally discombobulated from the drugs, broken down physically, but I still worked, and put money into this stanking ass system but I can’t get shit. Nothing. Nada. No Bueno. Not a damn thing. I know I sound angry and yes I am. I have every right to be angry. I’m just so damn frustrated.

The Word “No”

How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?

I say no quite often these days to things that would interfere with my goals because I’m tired as hell. Tired because of the drugs I take for my medical condition, tired mentally because of the grief I’ve been going through these past years so I have no problem saying no. I mean if I dropped dead, what would they do? Find someone else to nag.

The Case of the Talking Turtle

Now as a writer, my spidey senses were tingling but my common sense was like “what the fuck!!” Who refers to themselves as a creature? I should have ran for the hills but I couldn’t resist so I emailed him back and set up an appointment to meet this critter.

The Meeting

As a reporter, I receive a lot of weird messages from people but this shit here is the craziest. One morning I was minding my business, having coffee in my office when I heard a ping from my phone. I had received an email alert from a gentleman named Simon Tutweiler who claimed to be one of the oldest creatures on the planet. Mind you I said creature.

I was told to meet Simon in Miami, Florida on the beach at midnight. Now I was suspicious as hell because this could be some horny bastard looking for some pussy but I’m a reporter so what the fuck. With that being said, I trudged on.

To Be Continued…….

Close up of Alligator snapping turtle, One of the largest freshwater turtles in the world, Males can weight over 100kg. Their massive jaws are so powerful, they can easily snap off one’s finger.

Single and Mingling

What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.

The one question I hate to be asked is why am I single? One because it’s invasive as hell and lastly, it’s no one’s business. We live in a culture in which women are considered weird if they don’t have a man attached to the crack of their asses so any woman who is single is given a major side eye. As if getting a man is so hard. They are not but it’s hard to find the right man. At least it is for me because I do not want to be aligned with the wrong person just to say that I’m in a relationship. So to quote a great movie, “All I do is rest and dress.”

Welfare Queen

How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?

How has a failure, or apparent failure, set me up for later success? Having two children by the age of 21. According to statistics, I wasn’t supposed to be shit and my children weren’t supposed to be shit but I proved them wrong. Got my bachelors degree at the age of 35 and those children that I had at the ages of 16 and 21 are thriving. And my old ass is currently pursuing a masters degree in history at the age of 53. Look at that.

Accountability

If you could permanently ban a word from general usage, which one would it be? Why?

If I could ban the word ‘accountability,’ I would dance ass buck naked on the Gold Coast here in Chicago. I’ve seen so many people on the internet use this word without knowing what the fuck they are talking about. Especially the Black Red Pill movement. Always talking about holding Black women accountable for everything under the sun. If they don’t shut the fuck up and go sit their silly asses down somewhere. Random Black women don’t owe accountability to random nitwits online for shit. They better go get some therapy and figure out why no woman wants their shiftless asses. Look in the mirror motherfuckers.

The Lost Ones

I’m back home after attending a balloon release for a real cool gentleman I grew up with and for whatever reason, I decided to take the Red Line train to the park it was being held, and my god. It was filled with so many young Black adults strung out on drugs. One young man was cackling madly to himself and fighting the air. Normally, I would have been paranoid as fuck, but all I felt was sadness. These young people were around my daughter’s age who will be 23 next month. Babies. And they are drug addicts. The lost ones. Neglected children who never had a chance. Everyone has let them down. Their families, the system, and society at large. The Black community and this country is going to pay a steep price for this neglect, the lack of empathy for its most vulnerable members.