The Potty Mouth Granny

  • Sole Survivor

    Six years next month. Six quiet, thunderous years of carrying a title no one applies for. A sole survivor is the last remaining member of their immediate family—the final branch on a once-leafy tree. My mother gave birth to three children. I am the only one left. No siblings to call and say, “Do you…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • Adults

    Grown folks will stomp your spirit down to the bone if you let them. Adults come loaded with agendas, unhealed wounds, power plays, side-eyes, and opinions they swear are facts but don’t know their asses from a hole in the wall. Everybody wants something. Everybody’s dumb and proud of it. I’m tired of their dirty…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • Gone With the Wind – My Childhood Obsession

    thepottymouthgranny

  • The Human Side of Myths: Stories of Monsters and Spirits

    Across time and tongue, humanity has told the same stories under different stars. In the hush of night, around fires that crackled with both warmth and warning, people have whispered of spirits that rise, beasts that prowl, and angels that fall. But beneath every monster’s face and every god’s name lies something achingly human —…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • Musical Musings

    When it comes to music, I gravitate towards music that fulfills a need in my soul. Now, the soul is a multifaceted being, therefore, my soul has different needs. Sometimes, my soul needs Donny Hathaway. Passionate. Longing. Poignant. On other days, my soul needs Sade. Silky. Cool. Sultry. And sometimes, my soul needs Too Short.…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • The Life of a Writer

    She sits with the page like an old friend who no longer speaks. The words used to pour like honey; sometimes soft as silk, other times thunderous and filled with fire. Now, silence. Complete silence. Voiceless. Ideas knock but never enter. Ideas forgotten. Ideas who flew away like leaves in the wind on a warm,…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • You Are My Love Child

    Yesterday was a day she would tuck carefully into the folds of memory. It was the birthday of her oldest child thirty-eight years now and the weight of that number pressed gently against her chest and her soul. She could hardly believe it. Time, that quiet magician, had slipped by while she wasn’t looking. It…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • In Memoriam: Francine Pascal

    Today I learned that one of my favorite authors in the world died. Her name was Francine Pascal and she created The Sweet Valley High book series in 1983 which revolutionized the book industry. After her series was published, a whole new genre was established and it was so many book series for teenage girls…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • The Curse of the Strong Black Woman

    During my travels in life, I have seen many sisters in pain, young and old, walking around like the living dead. I just want to hug them and tell them that it will be okay. That I know it is not easy living a society that tells Black women that we are ugly and no…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • 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…

    thepottymouthgranny