Worry About Your Own Coochies Ladies

For some reason women stay their asses in the business other women’s pussies. Yes I’m going to be vulgar because I’m tired of these broads because they are dangerous to womanhood collectively .

Due to patriarchy, many women believe if they adhere to outdated ideology about female sexuality, they are better than the women who live their lives according to their own standards. So they spend their days and nights worrying about shit that has nothing to do with them. The original Coochie Cops of Patriarchy because patriarchy couldn’t exist if wasn’t for women willing to throw other women under the bus for crumbs.

We have enough police in the world and women don’t need their own kind policing their sex lives. How is someone else’s sexual activities going to affect your life? But for some reason, these chicks don’t get it. These women call sexually secure women whores, sluts, and tramps, all derogatory titles created by the patriarchy to shame women who revel in their sexuality and to make the Miss Priss chicks feel superior.

What these ninnies don’t realize is that it’s all game. The same men who talk shady about so called whores can’t wait to get between the legs of a whore. Will spend their last dollar on a whore. Prostitution is the world’s oldest profession and men are the ones who keep this profession in business.

I do believe that the Coochie Cops of Patriarchy are some wretchedly unhappy women who have never had an orgasm in their lives and are just jealous of those who nut on a regular basis. Just imagine if these women used that energy for themselves instead of being bothered. They would be happier and filled with satisfaction. Hopefully sexual satisfaction.

Femininity Gurus, Relationship Experts, and Various Other Quacks and Shysters

One of the easiest ways to make money via the social media is to exploit the insecurities of Black women. Black women in this country have been told by the dominant culture and their own kind for centuries that they are ugly, masculine, and as a whole, unlovable. As a result of this never ending propaganda, too many Black women suffer from low self esteem and are highly male identified. The definition of a male identified woman is in the link above but my own personal definition is a woman who will sell her soul and her first born child for some dick. I hate to sound crass and uncouth but it’s the truth and there are individuals who know this fact and have decided to make some money by capitalizing on this need for the ding a ling.

In either 2015 or 2016, I came across this chick name Ro Elori Cutno via Facebook. She claimed to be an expert on relationships and all the fellas loved her dirty draws because she advocated for women reverting back to their “natural” role as a subservient, meek, mild, wet hole for men instead of striving for an education and a life outside of striving for husband.

She even had the audacity to start a “Wife School” and charged desperately unhappy women $30,000 to attend. The school was in Paris and not only did the attendees had to pay their transportation costs but they had to live in a shady boarding house with their other clueless brethren. And then she set them up with some truly unattractive men who just wanted a green card and they got married and rode off into the sunset broke but at least they were married!

But eventually, all good things come to an end and shit got to stanking for Ro. She got caught up being a shyster doing shiesty shit and now she’s in Senegal trying to exploit more guileless women but in her wake, another generation of femininity gurus have picked up the flag and are juicing Black women out of their hard earned coins. Now it’s the “femininity” scam and this new crop of people are making coins telling Black women that if they wear pink and speak softly, Prince Charming is going to pull up in a Rolls Royce and sweep them off to a mansion where they will rest in their femininity for all eternity.

It’s so many of these women and men getting paid off the insecurities of Black women that it needs to be a crime but I really don’t feel sorry for these women and maybe it’s because I don’t understand their mentality.

I’m Generation X and I was raised by Black women from the Silent Generation and Baby Boomers. Beautiful chocolate and caramel brown sisters who who were soft and feminine and wore big hats and fur coats to church every Sunday but didn’t have an issue with stepping out of character and cracking someone upside their head if they needed to.

My Matriarchs

These ladies including my mother who is not in the above picture taught me everything about femininity and womanhood. How to behave properly in public spaces. How to walk away when a man is treating you like shit. So many life lessons and it’s sad that it’s too many sisters who didn’t receive these lessons as young girls and are now willing to pay complete strangers to learn how to be a woman. Paying thousands of dollars to get attention from men not worth two dead flies and who need some lessons in masculinity if you ask me.

If You Thought the Crack Era was Bad, Watch This Opioid Era That’s About to Kick Off

While cruising the Black social media streets, I’ve seen several folks sniggering over the opioid epidemic that’s currently plaguing White communities throughout America and while I understand the cynicism, some of us need to stop casting stones and look at what’s going on in our own backyards. Because it’s a whole lot of young drug addicts running amok causing chaos and mayhem but no one wants to talk about it. So I will.

Pill addiction in the Black community amongst the younger generation is running rampant and people are either ignoring it or acting shocked when the reality slaps them in the face. Rappers glorify opioid usage and brag about popping Mollies and unfortunately, too many young people have been heavily influenced by these fools and have become addicted.

According to a study conducted by the Substance Abuse and Mental Heath Services Administration, it’s been a 40 percent increase of Black drug overdose deaths between 2015-2016 as compared to the overall population at 21 percent. And between the years of 2011 and 2016, Black folks have had the biggest increase in opioid overdose deaths, particularly for synthetic opioid drugs such as fentanyl.

I wasn’t one of the people who were kee-keeing about the opioid addiction problem in the White community but I do remember how crack addicts were treated back during the War on Drugs. Crack addicts were thrown into prison like trash and given no empathy or treatment whereas today, this opioid drug epidemic has been called a health crisis. Because the face of the addicts are White and suburban, not Black and from the inner city.

So as cynical as I am about this system I live in, I couldn’t help but put a correlation between the reckless crimes being committed in the city I live in which is Chicago and the rise of the opioid addiction in the Black community. I’ve seen mugshots of criminals who are usually between the ages of 18 and 35 and I see absolutely nothing in their eyes. Not a trace of humanity or common sense. A graduate student from the University of Chicago was murdered by one of these monsters and he gave the criminal everything he wanted and he was still shot down like a dog in the streets. The only reason his murderer was caught is because he sold his victim’s laptop and phone at a cellular store and it was on video. Crackheads weren’t that stupid back in the day because at least they waited until night to commit crimes and this murder took place at 1:54pm.

The long term ramifications of the opioid epidemic in the Black community is going to be horrendous. The community has barely recovered from the crack era and its existing on fumes. Imagine how the children born from this era in Black history are going to be affected. So my advice to the Black community is to take those blinders off and really look into the faces of the younger generation. Today I was almost pickpocketed by a young man while shopping in Walmart and if I wasn’t so cognizant of my surroundings at all times, I would have been robbed. He was too close to me for my comfort and I turned around and looked at him dead in the eyes. He scurried off like the piece of shit he was and left me in peace but another woman might not be that lucky.

Continue reading “If You Thought the Crack Era was Bad, Watch This Opioid Era That’s About to Kick Off”

Welcome to the Clubhouse

It was a year ago this month that I received an invitation from a friend to join Clubhouse, a new social media app that allows people to interact by audio. It allows you to create different rooms discussing any subject that you would like to talk about and you have the option of inviting people to your rooms or you can ramble all by yourself. You can also drop in other folks rooms and listen to conversations, and if you want to join in, just raise your hand and wait to be added to the queue.

It’s a really cool concept because you can have conversations with thousands of people from all over the world with this app and as a sociology major who loves to study the interactions of humanity, I thought this was a wonderful idea but as usual, humans fuck everything up. Clubhouse has a dark side and let me explain why.

I didn’t actually start interacting on Clubhouse until this summer and my God, these fuckers are insane. Rooms that last for days discussing who gets the biggest piece of chicken and weave. Makeup. Submission. And why Black women aren’t shit and deserve absolutely nothing in life but chaos and pain.

There are also rooms on this app that are created by scammers who claim they are “femininity” coaches and are charging $9000 per course, “teaching” broken women with low self esteem on how to find a rich husband. And these so called coaches are predatory women who doing this to their own kind because they aren’ shit. Making money off the insecurities of desperately unhappy women who believe they are nothing without a husband.

And the men who create rooms to complain about frivolous mess but claim they are millionaires. These millionaires have the time to argue with strangers for days at a time but no time to mentor the youth who need all the help and guidance they can get. Never ending arguments about shit that doesn’t matter and never any solutions to the many ills that plague the world. Ain’t worth two dead flies🪰🪰🪰🪰🪰.

And oh Lawd the illiteracy. These folks cannot form a sentence or express themselves in a cohesive manner but really expect someone to listen to their ramblings. My god American culture is headed down a dangerous path when its citizens will listen intently to people who espouse ignorant viewpoints about abortion on an app who don’t know their asses from a hole in the wall or basic biology. But will not listen to the voices of women because women are inferior because the Bible said so.

When Illiteracy & Misery Collide – America

Me on the social media

If you go to any article posted on the social media and peruse the comments, the first thing you will notice is the vast amount of grammatical errors and the vast amount of unhappiness from the people. This ignorance and misery crosses racial lines and it’s so telling of the current state of America.

You see, American culture sells dreams. It tells people that if they work hard, they will become wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. The men will met their dream girl with the tight little body, big boobs, and long flowing hair and she will love them forever. The women will meet their very own Prince Charming who’s going rescue them from a life of abject misery and they will ride out into the sunset living happily ever after, complete with a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and 2.5 children.

But reality sets in. The public educational system in this country is atrocious and didn’t prepare the students and now they are adults who are for all intents and purposes, functional illiterates and they work at jobs that barely pay a living wage. They are dealing with mental health issues, relationships that didn’t work and children they don’t want. So instead of facing their problems and coming up with strategies to fix themselves, they get on the internet, harassing strangers and spreading their misery.

Do I sound harsh and unfeeling? Yes because I’m sick of their asses. Over the past two years, I’ve experienced enough trauma and loss for ten people but it never crossed my mind to get on the social media and take my issues out on someone else. Because that’s cowardly.

I majored in sociology and sociology is the study of human social interactions so the social media is fascinating to me but as laid back as I am, I’m contemplating taking a break because it’s too much. But since I’ve decided to write a blog per day for the month of December, I can’t leave yet.

So I will be around and I truly hope that these broken people will get some help for themselves. I understand more than most in this society that it’s hard trying to live up to societal expectations and that’s why I don’t bother to try anymore. It’s a waste of time and most importantly, energy. Energy is too precious to waste on the should have beens, could have beens in life. Just do you and fuck everything and everyone.

Fuck ya

Woes of a Frustrated Writer

Writing is a skill that has come easily to me and I consider myself blessed to be able to articulate my thoughts in the written form but it can be frustrating. Because in order to be a successful online writer in today’s culture, you have to appeal to the masses, most of whom aren’t interested in anything beyond celebrity gossip, relationships, and conspiracy theories. Subjects I do not give a rat’s ass about because when I do decide to write, I write from a viewpoint of something that I am passion about. So being a writer can be frustrating as hell.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Like celebrity gossip. I turned 51 last month (Scorpio Woman!!!!) and I’m clueless about the newest celebrities on the block. While cruising the social media streets, I often see stories about the lives of rappers and reality television stars and I don’t know these people from a can of paint. It wouldn’t make any sense for me to write about them because it would be disingenuous and most importantly, they are boring. At least to me.

Way back during the Stone age, I had an affinity for stars from the Golden Age of Hollywood because of the black and white movies that were shown on television (during ancient times when cable didn’t exist) and I used to purchase the National Enquirer and Star Magazine every week to read about the lives of Elizabeth Taylor, Joan Collins and other stars from that era. When stars were glamorous and had some real drama, not that manufactured shit that they do now for social media likes.

But now I am sounding like a snob so let me stop. Back to the subject. The other subject that will get an online writer a lot of attention on the internet is relationships. Especially amongst the online clique of Black folks who have discussions about relationships that last for days and usually places blame for the dysfunction that runs amok in the community upon the backs of Black woman. These conversations revolve around submission, single mothers, welfare, and who eats first, the man or the children. These subjects are talked about day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year and nothing changes except the people are getting older and their mindsets stupider and stupider.

When I see these musings from clearly disturbed individuals, I feel blessed and fortunate enough to know functional Black folks offline but I can admit that I am both fascinated and saddened by the lack of intellectual curiosity from the online Black folks, especially these so-called pro Black folks. Why are these folks clinging so tightly to the chains that have oppressed themselves and their ancestors ancestors for centuries so tightly? Bewailing about the end of the nuclear family which was created by dominant culture during the 1950s to take away the freedoms of its women. Especially when historically, the Black family was centered around the extended family concept. Geez…..

And the conspiracy theories truly make my ass itch and twitch. People have built large social media platforms spewing nonsense about the pandemic and whether the earth is round or flat. I can understand the fear about the pandemic but people claiming that the world is flat really fucked my entire understanding of life up because it’s not the 1500s anymore. I’ve been saying for the past five years that this era in American history is The New Dark Ages but no one believed me and now look. These fuckers are running amok looking like complete ninnies, spewing nonsense and rhetoric that they learned from fools.

It has been hard for me to write because I don’t feel passionate about anything anymore but my ability to write is calling me, telling me to use this gift from the ancestors. I feel so blah 80% of the time and I am doing my best to fight this feeling so that is why I am wrote this blog today. Perhaps my passion about life will come back through my writing. I hope so.

Realization Is a Hard Pill to Swallow

It was a year in October that I was diagnosed with epilepsy and since then, I’ve worked two jobs. Both jobs I’ve walked away from because the medication I take to control the seizures makes me so tired and discombobulated that I’m useless. The medication I’m taking is levetiracetam and the side effects are loss of strength and energy, sleepiness amongst several others.

I’m always sleepy now and have taken more naps now than the three times I was pregnant. I’m clumsy as hell and feel generally lethargic most of the time. Which is not good in the field that I’m in which is clerical/administrative. To be in that line of work, one must be detailed oriented, attentive, and on point at all times because one little mistake can be costly. But it’s hard to be attentive when you are taking medication that makes you nod out like a dope friend.

There are some who will say that I should try another medication but when it comes to seizure medications, it’s not that simple. My neurologist would have to wean me off the levi shit and then put me on another medication that will also come with several side effects and that is too much. What few brain cells I have left will not be experimented on.

So today I finally came to the realization that working a traditional job will not be an option for me anymore and that realization makes me feel so sad and useless. I fought the welfare system to obtain a bachelors degree that would make me more desirable in the job field and now 15 years later at the age of 51, a medication has rendered me useless.

I know I can work from home but I like getting out and about, going to lunch, watching people, meeting new people, having social interactions with people. I’m only 51 and this is supposed to be my life now? This is some straight bullshit.

Some little girls wanted to grow up and be a housewife. I wanted to grow up and work in a fancy office and earn my own money. To not be dependent on anyone. I’ve applied for disability and was turned down but eventually I will get it but damn. All I wanted was my own economic autonomy but my body is not cooperating. And I’m pissed, sad, and numb.

A Rough Season

This summer was supposed to have been a great one but unfortunately, I lost two childhood friends that I loved like sisters in two months. Most people lose contact with their childhood friends as they get older but I have been fortunate that I’m still in contact with the majority.

I spent my teens, 20s, 30s, and 40s with these ladies and was hoping that we would grow old together, sitting on the porch with our canes cussing folks out but it wasn’t meant to be. But as I write this, I’m sitting here smiling through my tears, grateful that I had the privilege of knowing them at all.

So many sisters complain about the lack of friendship amongst Black women but I was truly blessed to have known these ladies. I hope that the ancestors greeted Genial and Mikki with love and I promise to keep them alive with my memories. Because what memories they were❤️❤️❤️❤️

Sunday Musings from Chicago

So it’s 11:34am Chicago time and I am sitting here chilling, listening to the music of my youth with a pot of oxtails cooking and all is right in my universe for now. But I think too much as an ex told me so I am also sitting here thinking about the evolution of the Black social media and how it has not changed in the almost 13 years I have been on it.

I joined Facebook back in October of 2008 when my cousin Lisa sent me an invite. At first I didn’t do too much but talk about my children but I wrote a blog for my now defunct website, “The Black Feminista” that discussed getting sexually molested as a child and boy did it generate some views. I learned that so many Black women had experienced what I had gone through and it made me mad as hell. That it seem to be some type of rite of passage for young Black girls to be molested by the men of the community and how people really don’t give a damn.

So I decided to speak on the issues that affect the lives of Black women and girls and I found a bunch of ladies who agreed with me. From then on, it was on. We spent time dragging dusty ass dudes who could barely write a coherent sentence but believed that because they were born male, they were superior to women and had the right to tell us what to wear, how to think, how to live. Hell some of them thought and still think that they know more about womanhood than actual women who were born female in a patriarchal society. The unmitigated gall of these illiterate fuckers but having a cock gives men the most audacity in the universe.

But almost 13 years later, the Black social media has not evolved and it seems to be devolving if anything. Regardless of what social media platform they use from Facebook to Clubhouse, the only topics discussed by Black folks is relationships, celebrities, weave, sex, and the battle for dominance over women and children. Every couple of months, topics such as who gets fed first, the man or the children, did welfare destroy the Black community, should women go 50/50 on household expenses, and whether women should submit to men even if she works 80 hours per week while he sits on his ass arguing with strange women online are talked about ad nauseam and the shit is ridiculous.

Black women and children are being murdered daily across America, gang violence is out of control, the pandemic has taken a toll on the Black community collectively, and we have no money but the only things some Black folks want to talk about is getting fucked, telling women the best way to jump through hoops of fire to hold on to a man not worth two dead flies, weave, and fucking makeup. It makes me sad how little intellectual discourse is taking place online because the social media is one of the greatest inventions created and it could be of such good use to Black folks but instead of using it to uplift the community, many of us are consumed with satisfying our basic needs to the point that nothing else matters. Not even the children who are born unwanted and unloved and then grow up to be menaces terrorizing the community while these same adults bewailing and clutching their pearls about their behavior pretend like they don’t know what happened. With their trifling asses.

Honestly, what really irks me is that all these discussions revolve around men. How to keep a man, how Black men really feel about women. Everything is centered around them. Even those women who claim they are “divested” from Blackness spend their days whining about Black men and have transferred their worship of maleness from Black men to white men and will still be disappointed and looking stupid because they don’t love themselves. Women who truly love themselves don’t spend their days and nights worrying about how to appeal to men of any race. But I am digressing as usual and that is because I am frustrated.

I live in a city where more than 250 children have been shot and 32 killed this year, according to police data obtained by ABC station WLS. But grown ass people get their asses on the social media and discuss whether a more than likely shiftless man should be fed before the children. The same children who cannot defend themselves and are getting shot down like dogs. I wonder what I can do but I’m just a middle age fat chick.

Middle Age Angst of a Black Generation X Around the Way Girl

I’m currently watching BET Soul and they played Mary J. Blige’s video “Love No Limit” and lord it brought back memories of being young and carefree. Then it occurred to me that this album will be 30 years old next year. The same age as my son and now I feel old as mummy dirt. So I’m sitting here wondering where the time go.

So much have changed in my life since 1992. I’ve lost so many people that I loved with all my soul including my original birth family, aunts, cousins and friends.

When I look in the mirror, I see traces of the younger woman I used to be but I mostly see sadness. Sadness for my lost loved ones and the state of a culture that is selfish and trifling. I remember that idealistic girl I used to be and wonder where she went and what happened to her. Who is this cynical broad staring back at me in the mirror daily?

But I know who she is. It was easy for her to turn into a cynic considering what generation she’s from. Generation X, the forgotten generation stuck between the Boomers and Millennials who battle daily on the social media.

The original latchkey children who were left to their own devices and learned to be satisfied with eating ravioli straight out the can because their mothers refused to buy a microwave and threatened them with violence if they turned on the stove.

The generation who saw a spaceship blow up in the air back in 1986 and if they were Black, saw the destruction of their community when the crack era started. It’s no wonder why so many of us are drunks. We’ve seen it all and still somehow manage to get up in the morning with a semi straight face despite the pain of yesteryear.

But despite the pain, considering what I have been through during these last almost 30 years, I’m eternally grateful to be still alive and in one piece. Fatter with laugh lines but still here. So this little story is for my Generation X folks. My middle age Around the Way gals and homeboys. We go make it y’all. Yes we are.