Category Archives: WTF

Verbal Diarrhea Diares: On Bended Knee

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I’m in Starbucks waiting in line to order a chai latte. I happen to be standing by the fridge unit where the yogurt parfaits, salads, sandwiches et cetra are kept. The line, as usual, is long and formed a curve around.  A guy opposite me on the curve politely says excuse me and ask to look at the items in the fridge.  I’m in line, but I manage to step back a smidgen to give him a better view. When he leans over to visually scan the items and reaches out for something, the back of his hand accidentally brushing against my thigh lightly. He snatches his hand back apologizing profusely.  It’s a small space between me, the person in line in front of me and he in between us, shit happens, I wave him off ignoring him.

Not surprisingly , there’s some sort of traffic jam at the cash registesr and the line doesn’t move for a good two minutes and “shit happens” again.  He is on one knee as he picks up items and puts them back “deciding”.  This is clearly not an accident.  His friend who is still in queue at their original spot, looks at the idiot clearly surprised by his behavior. He glances at me, who is clearly about to catch a case on this mofo, and suddenly becomes interested in a spot on a wall far, far away.  So it’s like that huh? No problem.

I look down at Tweedledumb “Honey, I know I smell good down there, but from that position you either need to get up out of my way, ask for my hand in marriage or commence cunnilingus immediately, your choice.”

He turns beet red, knocking over a basket with various coffees for sale in his haste to stand, much to the amusement of those who heard me, especially his friend who called him an ass and laughed in his face.

“You sure you don’t want to take me up on the last offer?”  I ask as the line finally moves, sparking more snickering.  He quickly shakes his head in the negative and finds that same far off spot his friend found earlier.  Yes, I’m evil.

I place my order and the idiot and his friend wind up waiting together with others for our respective purchases.  I have my earbuds on, but the music is playing low so I can hear when they call my name. I can also hear Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber speaking low off to the side.  Apparently the hand brushes against me were accidental, but he wasn’t going to apologize again until he had stood up.  And while I was being facetious when I said it to him, apparently I really did smell good to him while he was down there. He was trying to decide if it was me or the fruit in the fridge that he smelled when I busted him.

I did not hear the result of his ‘analysis’ as my name was called then, but me being me I just had to have one last word. Chai in hand I whispered as I passed him.

“Your loss, I taste *divine*!”

Repeat: Yes, I’m evil.

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Slice of Life Writing Challenge

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries: I’ll Be Damned

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So, a guy emails me through an online dating site:

“I am going to assume that my profile is too casual/risqué for you, but I thought I’d shoot you a line anyway. (You have a fetching smile.)”

Of course I check out his profile. He states he wants a FWB, not looking for serious dating and is desirous of a woman with intelligence.

Got it – he wants a fuck, just not a dumb one.

My response?

“Hello,

My dentist and I thank you.

“Check you out!” as the kids say, throwing down the gauntlet on the opening play.

If I respond in the negative I come off as looking prudish, yet a positive one is indicative that I am open to only being someone ‘beneficial’. If I am open to such with you, who else have I been beneficial to? Providing I am someone simpatico to your intelligence and views to be worthy of said fornication.

Damned if I do and damned if I do. Fiddley-dee, whatever is a woman to do?

Oh, I can pick up that gauntlet and cyber strike you across the face with it. (Insert emoticon with tongue sticking out here.) [<– Yes, I actually wrote it out as such.]

Ya gonna take that?

Rai”

This is not to say I would or would not go for a roll –or a few- in the hay with him. He is attractive and arrogant and just the sort of ego balloon I like to stick my pins in and pop.

Regardless, one has to prove worthiness of my wrapping these thick juicy thighs around, and that ain’t the way, Bub.

I See Your True Colors Shining Through

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So last night  this happened…

Miss America 2014

Miss New York –YAY TO MY HOME STATE, TWO WINS IN A ROW!-,  Nina Davuluri, was crowned the winner of the 2014 Miss America Pageant.  The 24-year-old is the first contestant of Indian heritage to become Miss America.

And the racists go wild!

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 twitter_starnes_1The new Miss America 2014 barely had the first hair pin in to secure the crown on her head when the backlash started.

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Being that this is Twitter, and we all know what a rainbows and lollipop filled space that is, I am not in the surprised by the nasty vitriol the spewed by these lesser informed Americans.  As usual along with their hate, their ignorance is shown at an all time high.

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I’m willing to bet a good majority of these ignoramuses against Miss Davuluri being chosen to represent the nation, were also upset that Marc Anthony sang the national anthem at MLB’s All Star game this past July because he wasn’t an American either. And we know how well that turned out for them.

If you’re born here in the US or in a recognized US  territory you’re American. If you immigrate here and become a citizen, guess what? you’re American. And American melting pot has a hell of a lot more colors in it these days.  Like it, and apparently quite a few do not, Nina Davuluri is an American citizen and is fully worthy of wearing the crown.

It galls me to no end how immigrants of color “are welcomed” to have anything they want, but -to quote Guns’N’Roses- “you better not take it from me”.  Immigrants of color are an asset to the country until they cross that invisible line and achieve -read as “take”- something deemed should be an American -read as “white”- ideal. Then it’s a problem and one of the first thing out of the complainer’s mouth usually is “They’re not from here”. If they would take their respective feet out of their mouth and extrapolate on that theory a bit, they might remember neither are they and the majority of us living here.

And I am sure all those of Native-American heritage justifiably nod their heads in agreement every single time they read something like this.

I find it appalling and yet “same old/same old” that ones spewing the most hatred were mostly Caucasians and the one shocked at that very same hatred are mostly Caucasians. As a minority I live with this on the daily. It’s fucked up, but not in the least surprising. The new Miss America is of Indian descent – it is a huge step forward in diversity.  Unfortunately, all those in the Twitterverse who feel otherwise about her win sends us two steps back in maintaining that divisiveness.

If I Read One More Thing About Weight Loss I’m Going To Throw Up!

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Do you know how sometimes you and/or your friends come across something so WTF?, so  – I don’t even know what to call it – that it must be shared just so the burden of knowing this exists is not yours bear alone.

This is one of those times….

The Device
To begin Aspiration Therapy, a specially designed tube, known as the A-Tube™, is placed in the stomach. The A-Tube is a thin silicone rubber tube that connects the inside of the stomach directly to a discreet, poker-chip sized Skin-Port on the outside of the abdomen. The Skin-Port has a valve that can be opened or closed to control the flow of stomach contents. The patient empties a portion of stomach contents into the toilet after each meal through this tube by connecting a small, handheld device to the Skin-Port. The emptying process is called “aspiration”.
http://www.aspirebariatrics.com/how-it-works.html

Where a standard catheter processes food removal after digestion. Here, the person has a type of catheter attached to his/her stomach that allows a portion of  food to be removed from the body before digestion is complete. This medically sanctioned bulimia is calories in, calories out without having to stick one’s fingers down one’s throat. Good, because I imagine that must be murder on one’s manicure.

Now, as a medical procedure for those who would need to do such to save their lives, I understand. I fully understand that there are those who can’t, and I do mean cannot, make use of the socially accepted methods of weight loss – dieting-exercise-Weight Loss Surgery.  However, let’s be honest. Never mind all the verbiage on the website that this “therapy” is used to assist in one’s “lifestyle modification”, and requires careful monitoring by one’s doctor.  We know a good portion of those who will volunteer to use this are going to be the ones who won’t (not can’t – won’t) be so bothered with those sociallyaccepted methods.

Considering the ‘aromas’ involved during a normal body waste removal and/or auto purge response. Never mind what’s involved scent wise with the use of catheters when things go wrong – and they occasionally do go very wrong.  I do not want to even think about what charm would emanate should that valve and/or pump ever fail.

And So…

  • If it comes down the front tube it’s urination.
  • If it comes down the back tube it’s defecation.
  • If it comes up the esophageal tube, though not necessarily out the mouth, it’s regurgitation.
  • And if it’s sucked out the inserted plastic tube on the side it’s aspiration.

They liken the process of expelling the contents of one’s stomach to the process of drawing one’s breath.  I know aspiration is the technical name for that part of the process medically speaking, the drawing of air or liquids through suction. Still, I’m betting, if the standard definition of the word were a person, s/he would be appalled and highly insulted by such.

And ooh, when it comes to sexy time, I bet that ‘poker chip’ must be so lovely to kiss to lick to gaze upon. Talk about redefining let me stick it in your port baby, ugh!I don’t know about you, but this is not something I will ever aspire to.

It’s A Thin Line…

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Got on the train in the midst of a married couple having a major lovers’ spat on the subway. Nasty hygiene, who slept with whom, the whole laundry basket. Everyone around them were interested in their books/tablets/music etc. The desperate were highly engrossed in the subway advertisements farthest down the car.

I could hear them through my ear buds. And yes the iPod was up as loud as I dared after the crap I overheard the other day (my Facebook friends know about it, I’ll spare the rest of you).  Still, after a solid 1/2 hour I could not take it any more and screamed at them. “For Christ’s sake, if you can’t get along together at home, stay the hell apart when you’re away from it! You are our *elders*! The ones who are supposed to be our examples of love in longevity and longevity in love.  You wonder why we young ones don’t know how to be together? Who the hell are we to learn from when you behave like this?! “

Now mind you, who is a couple of weeks shy being 50? This gal. We young ones? HAH! Boy, was I on mini rant.

They, and several commuters; turned to me stunned. I actually, I was pretty surprised at myself. I sat there fully prepared to be cussed out and put in my place for getting in grown folks business. Because yes, Ma Pot and Pa Kettle Black were well into their 70s.

Surprisingly, after apologizing to everyone within earshot, they did not say another word for about 15 minutes until they disembarked. Then they were all ‘Honey’, ‘Sweetness’, lovey-freaking-dovey. The crazy part is it was clearly as genuine as the arguing earlier.

No matter the age, it’s a thin line indeed…

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Slice of Life Writing Challenge

How Could You…?

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So, after some serious internet searching on Sunday, I finally saw the “Harriet Tubman Sex Tape” video by Russell Simmons’ All Def Digital that raised such a stink.  I didn’t even watch it all because all I found myself asking and continue to ask is…

How could you…?

Females in general have so few women in history to look up to and aspire to, to begin with. American historical females are much fewer and the number of American heroines of color that is even smaller still. And you take Harriet Tubman, the most courageous, the most noble of them, the most widely known black woman in history next to Rosa Parks and turn her into some antebellum Jezebel for the sake of what was presumed to be satire. No! Just no!

How could you?

To the actors and crew involved, yeah, I know… It’s just a job, and you got paid. If you did not do it, someone else surely would have. So the money might as well go in your pocket, right?  I hope you are all proud of it because this will permanently be on your IMDB page someday.  I get it, really I do, but still I ask…

How could you…?

Russell, how little you must think of the woman who made such remarkable history! Clearly, you do not respect her or her deeds.   Deeds, may I remind you, that were among the stepping-stones, which now give you the ability to create the tripe you posted in the name of humor.

What on earth made you –the collective you for all who participated in this nonsense, but you Russell Simmons specifically– think this would be acceptable, let alone funny, to the intelligent general public and to black women in particular? You didn’t.

And that is what is so appalling.

Black women here in America spend every damned day of their lives overtly or otherwise fighting sexual stereotypes.  Stereotypes placed upon us by the very type of “massas” portrayed in your little piece of jacked-up faux history.  Over a century later and we women of color are still fighting those stereotypes just so you can take Harriet Tubman, one of the very few examples of black womanhood who was above all of that nonsense, and turn her into a sexual parody.

How could you…?

Simmons, you are –well, I thought you were– an intelligent man.  There is NO way you could not have known there was going to be some backlash on this. Perhaps not as much as what you received, but you had to know. I believe this was done solely for getting All Def Digital noticed. There were so many other ways All Def Digital could have debuted to be smart, edgy, relevant, and divisive. You chose to make a mockery of Harriet Tubman.  By making her a joke of this caliber you diminish not just the woman, but everything for which she is known.

And do you want to know the real funny part? Image this video some 50, 20, 10, hell perhaps as little as two years from now. When all of us have moved on to the latest hullabaloo of the time, some ignorant racist assholes –who managed to download a copy before you had your ass handed to you and pulled the content off YouTube– will  show this to others of their ilk and pass it on as ‘historical truth’.  All because of you  thought it was something hilarious. Ha-ha, very funny motherfucker.

We need to fight not just to preserve her history and her reputation. Not just Tubman’s, but all the sisters  who have managed to make an indelible mark on our history.  In addition, to keep known for our future generations for the truths they are. Not tear them down, not desecrate their images to garner base humor.

How could you?

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Calm Under Pressure?- Fine, Completely Uncaring?- No Bueno

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I understand many major municipalities police dispatch units are woefully understaffed.

I understand that dispatchers have a “script” they must follow, to get the pertinent information.

I even understand that dispatchers receiving crank calls by the dozens on the daily, can easily grow jaded over years of hysterical phone calls coming in.

Still, I have to say the seemingly complete apathetic attitude of the Cleveland 911 dispatcher regarding Amanda Berry’s frantic  phone disturbs me.

If you have not heard it, give a listen…

Amanda Berry 9-1-1 Call – Missing Since 2003, Found Alive 5.6.2013

Okay, on the reality side, I am not expecting any dispatcher to go all out ala Halle Berry’s character in “The Call”, so let’s not go there.  However,  a panicked crying woman tells she’s been missing for ten years,  just became free of her abductors and needs help deserves more of a response than “We’re going to send them as soon as we get a car open.” and “Talk to them when they get there.”.

“…as soon as we get an open car”????  If Amanda Berry had not practically begged dispatch into sending a car immediately it makes one wonder just how long she could have potentially waited for assistance.  Dispatch could have, and should have, placed her on hold as a car was sent out and then stayed on the line and talked to the girl, now a woman, until the police arrived.  It was so clear Amanda desperately wanted to keep a connection to the dispatch until her rescue. Amanda desperately needed that connection, yet dispatch simply did the minimum, and dumped the call.

The way dispatch dismissed Amanda with “I told you they’re on their way; talk to them when they get there, OK.”  sounded like an irritated parent, fussing at the child who keeps interrupting in the midst of watching a favorite show.  You can all but see the dispatcher’s rolling of the eyes in annoyance. Can you imagine Berry’s confusion, frustration and fear at that moment as she was politely, but firmly being forced to hang up?

“…Check out the kidnapping in District 2…”

Even as we listen to the dispatcher transfer the information to have it processed, the complete sense of  “whatevs”  in the handling is near appalling.

To be on the fair side, Dispatcher Perdy (sp?), the dispatcher who took the fateful call, did her job. She took the call, got the pertinent information and transferred it to the appropriate party. That is all she is required to do. Yet, I pray no loved one of hers, if having a desperate emergency, gets processed in the same indifferent manner in which she handled Amanda Berry.

My God, all the things that could have gone so horribly wrong because of this dispatcher’s nonchalance. Thankfully this story has a happy ending, and bless you Charles Ramsey!  Oh but, would I have loved to have seen the dispatcher’s face when the truth of Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus and Michelle Knight came to light.

Mountain Dew Drops Racist Commercial

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Mountain Dew  Drops “…the most racist commercial in history”

For those of you at work or on a device that can’t/won’t let you view the video, let me break it down for you:

In a police station, on one side of the one-way glass a battered white woman, on crutches stands next to a white detective who casually sips a Mountain  Dew while asking her to “nail this little sucker.”  Two other men, one white and one black, presumed to be fellow detectives, are also on their side of the glass.

On the other side of the glass is a line-up of all African-American male suspects. But  not just your average Joe Blow black man, no.  Each male exemplifies every inner city hip-hop/urban/thug stereotype a mama could ever warn her precious babies about, and a goat.

Yes, an actual goat.

The police detective tries to get the woman to point out her assailant “..the one with four legs”, but the woman is paralyzed in fear over whatever these scary black men, and a goat, have done and might yet do to her if she talks.

To further ensure her silence, the goat with the name card of “Felicia”, is portrayed with a deep speaking voice that sounds more like a pimp character from blaxploitation films than one would imagine say – a nanny goat would sound like, as he(?) utters encouragement such as “snitches get stitches, fool”  and “Keep ya mouth shut. When I get outta here, I’m gonna do you up” until the woman hobbles out of the room in tears, screaming.

You just need to watch this hot ass mess to get the full impact, but I’ll go ahead and ask the question already formed in your mind, in some fashion:

WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?!?!

So PepsiCo, tell us again, how did this bullshit come about? Mountain Dew recently released three new ads featuring a crazed goat voiced by rapper Tyler, the Creator, who was also the mastermind behind the commercials. The goat is seen attacking a waitress after she gives him the soda, fleeing a cop after getting caught with a car trunk full of the soda, and then threatening that waitress from behind the window of a criminal lineup Tyler, the Creator  is a founding member of the rap group Odd Future. Never heard of them? Neither had I and I apologize for ruining that particular peace of bliss for you.  It seems shock and offense are the tools of his trade for Odd Future. Tyler, known for his violent lyrics (“You’ll see the meaning of stalking/ when I pop out the dark to find you/ And that new dude that you’re seeing with an attitude/ Then proceed to fuck up your evening”), the rapper is committed to crossing boundaries of taste and decency.  It is members of the group who portray the human suspects in the line up. Odd Future is a group known for trying to provoke people with their actions. And provoke they did.

In just 59 seconds, the total running length of the clip, there is

Misogyny:

The sole female in the commercial is not a cop, not even a thug, but a beaten, abused, and likely sexually assaulted woman.  Because yes, this makes total sense in a soda commercial.

African-American Misandry:

It this Dewiverse it seems all black men are either misogynistic thugs, especially in the hip-hop/rap culture, or the token brother, barely noticeably standing in the background.

Stereotypes:

Black man in the urban/hip-hop/rap culture all wear du-rags, gold front teeth, white t-shirts (generally under an over-sized plaid shirt),  and go around abusing women, especially white women, every chance they get.

Racism.

What? Don’t you know only the ‘good ones’, read a non-threatening black man,  who knows how to stay in his place just outside  of the main spotlight that shines on the others, get to be in the place with the good, read white, guys.    When the detective coaches her with “the one in the du-rag” the camera focuses on one of the human, though by this point we clearly understand the goat is the perpetrator.  They are all are animals and look alike. (Think about it, what side of the glass was the goat on again?)

Yes, now that it has been brought to their attention on several fronts PepsiCo, has pulled the offensive ads from their site and their subsidiaries as well as have Odd Future remove it theirs.  Yet, oddly enough the blame is not spread on the various ad execs who not only signed off on this fuckery from the concept stage and then gave it the green light to be produced and aired. No, the finger is squarely pointed at the black guy, Taylor the Creator, read scape goat – pun fully intended. I mean what’s the problem? If the black guy was okay with it… right? Because clearly not one of those ad makers  were born and raised here in America and were totally clueless as to how such bullshit would be perceived. The ad-makers were very aware of Tyler’s music and decided to exploit that button-pushing. They absolutely knew what they were in for and wanted to to start shit—why? Just to sell soda – period.   PepsiCo deserves to be taken to task for this.

Congratulations Tyler, you not-so-stupid fuck, you’re getting your Dew. I hope they’re aren’t using lube.

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries: Hey Mami

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Verbal Diarrhea Diaries

(aka the shit that comes out of my mouth).

On being addressed as a female progenitor by people, other than the two I actually gave birth to, one time too many:

Him: Hey Mami

Me (annoyed): I am not your mother!

Him (surprised): But it’s just a term of endearment.

Me (eyes rolling): You just laid eyes on me for the first time in your life. I have yet to become an endearment for you to have a term to. It’s rude and an insult to all the women who are mothers, who have put in the work and earned the title.

Him (fishing): Maybe it just means on first sight I think you’ve got what it takes to love and take care of me.

Me (incredulously): Really?

Him (thinking he gained a point): Yeah.

Me (evil smile): So on first sight you think I’ve got what it takes…?

Him (cocky): Yeah.  To cook, clean and  all that good stuff, like a mother would.

Me (trying not to be mean, but failing):  And occasionally whip your ass?

Him (back peddling): No, that’s not what I meant, I…

Me (totally nonplussed at his ignorance by now): And is there’s some Oedipal history I should be aware of?

Him (clueless): What kind of history…?

Me (in full on evil mode): newsflash boy, because most men know better, when it comes to the majority of females you meet on the street addressing us by the title of the first woman whose vagina you came sliding out of, is not considered a compliment to the woman whose vagina you’re trying to slide into. Good-bye.

Want to guess what term of endearment was heard as I walked away? Hint: It rhymes with mucking witch.

Me (not even bothering to turn around): Thank you!
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Slice of Life Weekly Writing Challenge – April 16, 2013

Unpacking

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“I need to stop looking away and unpack my own reaction.”

My fellow blogger and friend, GirlGriot used that gem to describe her gut reaction to something. You can read all about it here.

I was telling a few friends a story of a crazy event that occurred over a year ago. I’ve told this story to several different friends over time, in the same way so I was not thinking about it as i told this group. At least I wasn’t thinking about it until a friend called me out on a racist comment that flew out of my mouth. I took a mental step back for a moment, but she was right. What I had said, even jokingly, was racist. I know it was a not-so-charming stereotype learned from my mother, among other places where such stereotypes are fostered, while I growing up. Still, I had not realized how deep that nasty little bug had dug in it came flying out.

As I said, I’ve told this story before to others in the same manner. I can’t decide if no one else ever noticed it before, or if they had, chose not to say anything. Neither option sits well with me, but the latter especially galls me. Once called on it, I owned up to it, because it was what it was. I know my friends know me better than that. What scares me is that it has been there all this time and I even I had not noticed to check myself.

I’m left wondering what other nasty little deep-rooted gems are waiting to come out and bite me. I’m praying that if it’s something I don’t notice, that it does not take over a year before I’m called out on it.