I’m Surrounded By Hoes

I just want a man who knows his worth. There’s so many hoes out here.  I don’t want men who are just freely give their dick away while demanding the benefits of a husband. I don’t respect them and in no way do I wish to burden my life with them.

When it comes to my last situation I admit that I made a fool out of myself. To my disbelief, I fell in love with a hoe. I don’t think men have any idea what they want anymore. They want to be fucked and adored. They want to be taken care of. They want to be treated kindly.

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Who Needs Kanye West When We Have Donald Glover?

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Let me just set the tone of this piece with a smooth Kanye can go fuck himself. We have a real genius in the building, totes forgot what that even looked like. Thanks for the refresher Donald! Confidence is being comfortable in your skin and speaking truth to power not just being an arrogant asshole oh yeeeeah…

So this past week I’ve witnessed the final descent of an artist who once inspired me to tell stories. There I was, thirteen years old sitting in the back of my brother’s car minding my business when I heard beats. My neck reacted with that bop & swerve combo blackfolk do when the beat is too clean. I was like, “who is thisssss?” as I swallowed my annoyance at my brother because he kept switching through tracks.

But what sold me were the skits. I went from hearing amazing songs with funny lyrics to a hilarious skit of “Broke Phi Broke” frat brothers stepping in pride. And the cycle just continued. A bop, a laugh – repeat. I couldn’t wait for my brother to pick me up again, so I went out and bought my first album: The College Dropout.

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Utopia is African. You Will Want Us to Sit At Your Table.

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I just wanted to start off with…in a little over three weeks Black Panther has made over $1,000,000,000 and counting in the global box office. I’m weary of celebrating, but I’ll do my best… 

I am just sitting here thinking about how magnificent Black people are. I just read an article about a package explosion that killed two black people in Austin, Texas. And I’m just like, “Man we’ve got vigilantes killing us again?” Just like George Zimmerman, just like the Charleston mass shooter, and now we’re being bombed again? Again. Black people have been lynched, bombed, shot – on a state and federal level – imprisoned, drugged, just anything to get rid of us.

This country has done everything it could. And it astonishes me how we have not folded. We only keep rising. That is why I can’t believe Black Panther right now. It might be the only film that has made a billion dollars in under a month. That’s an authentically black film with black themes set in a black Utopia, also known as Wakanda. This dream undeferred. A dream I have been taught would never happen. We’re living in the impossible right now. What they said was impossible is happening. Even as this juggernaut is upon us and we live in this moment, we are still being kept down. We rise and we suffer simultaneously. 

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On This Valentine’s Day, I Am Enough.

“It’s all about falling in love with yourself and sharing that love with someone who appreciates you, rather than looking for love to compensate for a self love deficit.” – Eartha Kitt 

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Last year on Valentine’s Day 2017, I found myself giving into the season and longing for love and I just was not comfortable with that feeling. I made it a mission to make myself more vulnerable and available to dating…but only met duds. Then I realized something. They mostly wanted me to come into their lives and somehow fix what was broken inside of them long before I stepped into the picture.

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7 Reasons Why Mr. Big is the Fuckboy G.O.A.T.

I recently re-watched Sex and the City and I gotta say that although it stands as a classic the show isn’t aging well. First of all I could go on about the fashion because HOLY SHIT. Remember back in the day when Carrie Bradshaw/Sarah Jessica Parker was hailed as a fashion icon? Maaan I was watching that shit cringing the whole time. But we can all agree that the 2000s will go down in history as one of the worse times for fashion and SATC couldn’t help but be a snapshot of those bleak ass times.

But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here today because as I watched this show I realized how much we romanticized Mr. Big and Carrie. Even the hood was fuckin wit it right down to Jay Z’s line in ’03 Bonnie & Clyde:

Only time we don’t speak is during “Sex and the City”
She gets Carrie fever, but soon as the show is over
She’s right back to being my soldier

I remember also yearning for the great love that Carrie aspired for. I remember the series finale when she said that line that fell right in tune with my teenage soul:

I’m someone who is looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love. And I don’t think that love is here in this expensive suite in this lovely hotel in Paris.

Continue reading “7 Reasons Why Mr. Big is the Fuckboy G.O.A.T.”