Death By Cosing

People I’m putting you on notice right now! Don’t call me 2 am unless someone of your direct blood pool has disappeared, died or been elected President! I was sleeping peacefully last night when the shrill ring of the telephone disturbed my dream of Reggie Bush and me getting to “know” each other.

“This better be a damn national disaster!” I growl in lieu of the conventional hello.

“Oh no! Oh no!! Cuzin open the door I’m outside. Help!” a hysterical voice cries.

I immediately spring from my bed, grab my ‘whoop a nigra ass stick’ and run down to the front door. To my horror, Lady Carabana is standing there with half her braids undone, wearing satin pajamas-very stylish I might add – and sobbing uncontrollably. OK this is going to require my Tech 9 cause some repeat offender has obviously assaulted my dear cuzin. I pull her into the house & sit her down at the kitchen table. Her breathing is erratic & she is looking a hot ass mess.

“Ok girl take & deep breath. Calm down and tell me what happened.” I say in my most soothing voice.

“Cro…” She shakes her head and grabs her heart with her left hand while raising her right to the sky, unable to continue. I rub her back in a circular fashion and tell her to take her time. “Crossroads…….is …….Crossroads… has …… OH MY GOD it’s been shut down!” She wails

Now people my first instinct was to take some of that left over diet lemon juice, pour it all over her head & set her damn ass on fire leaving her smelling like a burnt bunt cake. But you know you cain’t do that to your peoples ‘cause it’d make for a real uncomfortable family reunion.

“What am I going to do? What about my fan club? Where will we go to jump up and wave? I was supposed to see Buju next month!!” She cries on and on.

Although I want to jump on her back & beat her head on the table I restrain myself. I mean I understand what Crossroads means. It is of significant historical value to our time here in the Chocolate city. Where will go to hear the sycophantic rhythms of the island beat. Watch the Rastas beat the wall – at least the un Americanized ones. Meet our future ‘Mr Loverman’ (SHABA)?

What other club can you go to and hear the sexiest whisper of “Gal-a-wine ya poon poon pun me botty baby”? And what about that skinny guy that jumps around in there banging bottles on the wall singing all the words to every one of the songs. You know the dude that reminds you of the dancehall shows of home. I can empathize with her – NOT where I would be hollering like my Mama died – but still. So I decide not to beat her & just calm her down enough so she can tell me what happened.

It seems that Jack “Country Boodadean Lips” Johnson in his infinite wisdom decided to shut down nine “trouble spot” clubs in the county. As she went down the list of places closed my indignation grew! The Classics was one of the clubs on his list. Oh hell no! I’ve seen some of the best Mandingo swingers in the world there. What Suave, the Mandingo slinger of ALL Mandingo slingers, gone do if that closes? He 55 already it’s too late to look for a new career. I decided to fire up my laptop & see who else was on the list and the reasons behind it.

· The Millennium, Hyattsville
· Cuzco Restaurant, Hyattsville
· Tick Tock Restaurant and Bar, Hyattsville
· Crossroads Entertainment Complex, Bladensburg
· LePearl (formerly Mad Chef Café), Capitol Heights
· CFE, Forestville
· Knights of Columbus, District Heights
Classics Night Club, Camp Springs
Tradewinds

Now some of these places I had never stepped foot in cause they had a reputation for Nigras acting a complete fool and you know to leave early before the shooting & stabbing started. Sorta like the old man that leaves Harpos before Sofia tears in Squeaks ass. But some of the places weren’t too bad. I mean I’ve been to some hot parties at Knights of Columbus.

But the powers that be says they present an “imminent danger and threat to the health, safety and welfare of the public” and gotsa to go. The head Po Po in charge requested this action because he extends too many of his resources and officers on these clubs. What? I thought the officers like going there so they can holla at the half naked hoochies and get they mack on?

I suppose the next request will be to close down the metro stations in PG cause God knows you’re taking your life in your hands with all the robberies, murders and assaults that take place. Not to mention the crazy people & wayward teens who ride on the daily. I suppose next Chief High will insist that we not be allowed to drive cars cause it extends to many resources to stop the car jackers?

Now normally I would call the county offices and voice my concerns. However I gotta talk Carabana out of going to Crossroads chaining herself to the chain that’s chained to the door until the county lets them open. Poor thing. How will she survive without her weekly visits? I better call Dr Phil or Tyra.

BeYAWNsay is DE DEBIL!

You told Harpo to starve me? All my life I had to fight for food. I had to fight my Daddy! I had to fight my Brothers! I had to fight my UNCLES! Girl child ain’t safe in a family of hungry mens.

I loves Harpo! God knows I do. BUT I’LL KILL ‘EM DEAD ‘FORE I LET HIM STARVE ME!!

I am so damn HUNGRY y’all I don’t know what to do with myself. Lady Carabana got me doing some damn lemonade & syrup diet mess. Thomasome (consult hood vocab dictionary volume 35- ‘talking about some’ is correct definition) “We gone look like BeYAWNsay ‘nem. I started to tell her simple ass BeYAWNsay ‘nem gots people to pick they asses up off the ground when they get dizzy and pass out.

HEMINGWAY -My goal is to lose at least 35 pounds by July. Now I know you may say that’s a little unrealistic but I don’t think so. Honey its springtime and the biaches are out already with the stomachs hanging over & those extra smedium shirts showing all their babies daddies love handles – THAT WILL NOT BE ME!! However I don’t think I should starve myself to the point I’m seeing stars & little Jay-Z lips bouncing before my eyes. Geesh!! Yet I’m still determined to look good. Not necessarily BeYAWNsay sexy but maybe more like Alfre Woodard sexy. Besides who made BeYAWNsay the poster child for black women anyway?

Matter fact the more I think on it, the more I think I need to hop on down to Whole Foods & get a lil snack from their food bar. I mean after all trying to be BeYAWNsay can lead one to serious consequences. Look what happened to my girl Testy T. She wanted her some BeYAWNsay lashes sooooo bad, she went out and spent $275 for somebody to pluck somebody else’s hair. Straighten with the C.J. Walker super comb. Custom color and then individual glue them to her lids. Well the other day she was laughing at that lil boy doing the irreplaceable dance – I KNOW y’all have received that lil knee-grow in your email. Him and whosonever made that video need they asses whipped – but I digress. Anyway she was laughing so hard that the body heat from her getting so worked up, melted the glue and the lashes fell off & stuck her in the eye!!! Her mama had to go pick her up from work and drive her to the doctor. Poor girl couldn’t see a thing. This incident further convinces me that BeYAWNsay IS DE DEBIL!!

I’m afraid I’m going to have to finish this topic anther time. I’m so damn hungry I cain’t half way see my damn monitor & my hands getting to weak to maneuver on the keyboard. I should have consulted Dick Gregory instead of Lady Carabana ass about liquid fasting. She end up having a biach on Tyra big forehead dramatic lace front weave wearing ass talking bout how I died & came back tryna be BeYAWNsay. If yall don’t hear from me in a couple days send somebody over to the house to check on me!

Lord Keep Me

People all I’m trying to do is live a good life and be free. That’s all I want. Don’t need a fancy car, super size house none of that stuff. Just my health, strength, family and love all from the Grace of God. But I swear I don’t know if it’s safe to look for it in the Metro D.C. area!!

I was minding my business this morning driving to work, tryna to be at least half way on time, when lo and behold I find myself in the middle of police action. No – not that fool in Forestville who shot at the FBI, but another fool in D.C. Unfortunately we got enough criminals to go round to make for a crime filled day no matter where you at. Hemingway – You know how those D.C. cops ride around with they lights flashing but not doing a damn thing? Well not THIS morning.

I’m driving down Minnesota Ave heading towards Pennsylvania near that elementary school when the officer driving next to me suddenly pulls ahead, slams on breaks & curves half way blocking the street. I immediately think they’re after me for whipping up on Kim Kardishan ass bout messing with my little Ray J! Totally ruined my plans to raise that boy - but that’s a whole ‘nother blog. But back to the Po Po. I slam on breaks & attempt to hide my 38 caliber in between my 40 DD’s – it’s STILL against the law to have a gun in D.C. (I know, I know stop laughing).

Officer Kojak Super Black jumps out the car with his tech 9 out the pocket & runs to the side of the road. Suddenly within a span of thirty seconds at least 7 police cars –plain & marked – are in the middle of the road, with officers jumping out guns in hand. LORD JESUS ON THE CROSS four times!!! I can hear the lady in the car behind me screaming and I wanna ask that Biach what the hell she screaming for – I’m first in the line of fire !! I fall to the floor of my truck clutching my pearls tightly while calling on the name of Jesus. The Po Pos is running all along the side of the road down into the trees hollering & carrying on. Then they run to the other side of the street doing the same shit. I say to myself no wonder D.C. cain’t catch no criminals and solve cases. Who would take them seriously with all this high heel drama rama going on. Gewd Lawd!!

As I cautiously lift my head I notice the other drivers have started going around & through the police car barricade. I think what the hell. I ain’t got time for this foolwangary anyhow. Shit I gots to get to work!!

When my black ass finally got to The Plantation I was so happy!! I had to thank the Lord for letting me make it safe without being a stray bullet ‘ugh oh oops’. I hopped on the elevator with a smile on my face & a brisk step in my stride - that is until I reached the 6th floor and saw that YT had gone crazy. Talk about complete chaos. All the field hands was walking in a line carrying boxes back & forth like some little ants. Ms Ankle Britches was sweating out her new pay day beauty shop perm murmuring something to herself about Hebrews & slaves (that girl listens to Steve Harvey way too much). The overseer had Peanut by the collar ordering him to be careful with Massa Martins ‘impotent’ thangs & that Slattery boy (where all my Gone With The Wind peoples at) was carrying boxes too hollering bout “Tain’t right I gots to march long sides the Nigras”.

And the director of this whole fiasco? You guessed it, Miss Cornbread & Butterbeans herself. That hormonal heffa will clean out a spot in less than 10 seconds and five years later you’ll still be searching for your shit. Just ask Massa Turtle. She even told Massas favorite house gurl (I suspect some bloodlines there) “Lil Missy if you not gone bend your back than lay it flat out of my way!” Hemingway – it seems all the commotion stems from Big Massa changing his will again. He done rearranged all the chillens positions and now they got to be in rooms that reflect how much they is to be in charge of. Who’s first, second, third and just hoping to get a chance in line or a seat at the table.

I spotted Tokyo and Ms BBB in conversation and deep laughter over the whole situation. When asked why they wasn’t working Ms BBB simplystuck out her chest, smiled and stated how Massa liked her & don’t wont her to injure nothing ‘important’. Tokyo just turned to me and said “My Eyes is Green!” Well if that ain’t the pride of being in the house.

As I turned to leave Ms. Cornbread & Butterbeans grabbed me by the arm and demanded to know why I wasn’t hauling boxes. Hmm hmm hmm, Lord Hab Mercy I went to moaning some old Negro spirituals cause I could feel Sofia in me coming out. My fists clenched at my side. My eyes rolled back in my head. My nostrils flared so wide you could see a freight train coming through. All I can say is thank God for Mr Celie. When he touched me & said breathe my queen. “I knowed there is a God!”

I KNOWED THERE IS A GOD!

)

MAN TELLS JUDGE HE HAS SIX KIDS ON THE WAY...FROM SIX DIFFERENT WOMENMonday, March 12, 2007
Ricky Lackey
Ricky Lackey has six children on the way.Don't call them sextuplets - they're each with different women.

When Hamilton County Common Pleas Judge Melba Marsh asked Lackey during sentencing Friday on a charge of attempted theft how many children he had, the 25-year-old said, "None, but I have six on the way."

A stunned Marsh tried to clarify. "Are you marrying a woman with six children?" she asked.

"No, I be concubining," he said. (AT THIS POINT THE JUDGE SHOULD HAVE CAME OFF THE BENCH & PUT TWO SHOES UPSIDE THIS IGNORANT ASS NIGGA’S HEAD. JUST PLAIN DUMB MFR! I BET HE THOUGHT HE WAS SAYING SOMETHING CUTE TOO.)

Prosecutors said Lackey is the expectant father of six children with six different women. The women all are expected to deliver in August, September and October. (ARE YOU STILL CONFUSED ABOUT WHY AIDS HAS BECOME A BLACK DISEASE? SEE EXHIBIT A ABOVE)

Lackey's lawyer, Stephen Wenke, stopped his client from saying more. (WELL AT LEAST HE EARNING HIS MONEY & SENSE ENOUGH TO SHUT THIS IDIOT UP)

Marsh said she wasn't sure how to respond, so she let the issue drop since it wasn't relevant to the proceedings.Lackey, a music producer who told Marsh he was on the cusp of a $2 million deal that would net him $300,000 upfront, was convicted Friday on a reduced charge of attempted theft. (WELL THIS SHOULD INCREASE HIS STREET CRED & HE WILL BE THE NEXT PUFFY. ANOTHER UGLY FUGLY SORRY ASS BABY DADDY TYPE FAKING STREETABILITY WANNA BE RAP IMPRESARIO!)

Prosecutors say the Avondale man defrauded U.S. Bank out of $3,975 by depositing empty envelopes into ATM machines, claiming they contained cash, and depositing bad checks before withdrawing cash on the falsely inflated balances. (I WAS GONE SAY SOMETHING – BUT WHO AMONG US HASN’T TRIED THIS TRICK BEFORE? DON’T THROW ROCKS IF YOU LIVE IN A ………)

Lackey has repaid the money, according to court records.Marsh ordered no other sentence, because restitution had been paid.As Lackey left the courtroom, a group of teenage girls there for another case appeared to know Lackey. (TEENAGE GIRLS – AT COURT ALREADY? HERE’S YOUR FUTURE BLACK LEADERSHIP & OUTSTANDING MOTHERHOOD CANDIDATES!)

"Oh, there's Ricky Lackey!" one swooned.

Lackey shrugged the attention off with one word and a wave of his hand."Fans," he said. (* FALLS ON FLOOR, HITS HEAD ON CABINET & BACK TO PG TRAUMA CENTER I GO*)

Ms G only has only one word for this foolwangary!!! HELL IN A HAND BASKET! Oh that’s more than one word. Hemingway – normally I refuse to acknowledge the existence of these types of NIGRAS - period!!! But this extra zesty super spicy stankin in the corner rascal cannot be ignored!!!

My first reaction of course was to double over in laughter. However after recovering my composure I became very sad and teary eyed. The fact that this pink lipped oversexed dirty nasty bumpy penis animal is allowed to roam free is quite alarming to me. But more distressing is that someone of my own sex, of my own species allowed this crater ass herpes carrier to crawl between their legs – I’M SIMPLY DUMBFOUNDED!!!

Therefore I feel it is my duty to start a campaign against the animalization of the Black Baby Mama! I know that we should be focusing on Darfur, Iraq, homelessness etc. However since this Nigra is on the loose, this cause takes precedence over all others!!! Please contact your Pastor, the Holy Ghost Review Board, Christian Pie Makers on the Move and Minister Jaleed Jadiay Farrack Kamani Alumb Muhammed for immediate mobilization. This SHIT cannot be allowed to continue.

The first phase of attack – locate baby mamas & potential baby mamas and sew up their coochies. You can buy super weave 3 around the corner at Action Beauty Supply – black owned of course.

Phase Two – Spay & Neuter – you may contact the Humane Society for locations

Phase Three – Bring back the days of Bigmama’s so that black women will be raised with a better sense of self worth

Phase Four – Deportation to Planet of the Apes

At this point I can offer no other plans of attack as this goes way beyond Ms G’s range of Global Warfare. I must consult with higher authorities. If anybody see Dick Gregory on the streets tell him I said call me ASAP!! 911. This will also call for a Tom Joyner national call in campaign!!!

Sucker Free

To all my loyal legions of fans instead of you Nigras calling me & writing me complaining about why I haven’t updated – HOW BOUT you call me to see if I’m still alive or ask How the Hell I’m DOING!!! I want to thank Sista Jolinda Beverly Monahue-Johnson-Smith-Calloway who was the only person who came out to the PG County Hospital Heart Trauma Center to visit me – Lady Carabana was stuck at Home Depot, at least that’s the excuse she gave me, and couldn’t visit. What was I doing in the Trauma Center you may ask? Well if you had opened my damn Washington Gas bill you would know.

It seems that ERYbody thought this was ‘Ms G’s a Sucker Week’ from all the attempts of suckeration on my life. From the gas company, BBQ King, lil children, coworkers – just the whole metro D.C. area has tried me. Honey once I opened that gas bill it was downhill from there. $284 damn dollars for one month!!! I called the police on they asses too. I dialed 911 & told them MFR’s I was reporting a robbery.

“Are you injured ma’am?” The operator asked

“Yes, my chest is tight. I cain’t breathe!”

“Did the robbers assault you in the chest area?”

“No. They assaulted my pocketbook, which in turn made me feel like somebody kicked me in my chest & chopped me cross my throat!”

“Miss it is a serious crime to make a false police report. If you do not need assistance, you should not dial 911. It is for emergency purposes only.” She replied with a major attitude.

“Biach THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!!! If the police won’t come can you at least send the damn paramedics cause when I opened that thievery my fat ass fell out on the kitchen floor & now my ankle is stuck under the stove and I cain’t breathe or get up!!!” I yelled into the phone.

That’s how I ended up at PG Hospital. It ain’t the cleanest, fanciest or friendliest hospital in the area. But if your black ass get shot, stabbed, assaulted, and/or robbed it’s definitely the trauma center to be at. Them peoples get more bullet holes, knife points and sliced open nigras & hola como’ estas up in that joint - so you know they experts. Shit they saved my life.

All that commotion called for a trip to Red Lobster for Lobster Fest. The kids were already hanging out for the weekend – Lil G, Lil Carabana and Mustafa’s (you know my sister through the marriage certificate) daughter, Moon Pie – so I asked them to tag along with me. However before we got up in that piece I made sure they understood the budget rules. $10 or less for your entrée & one refillable drink – no desserts!! I know what you’re thinking but hell I had a gas bill to pay.

Hemingway – Lil G & Lil Carabana told me they wanted the shrimp & lobster pasta – lunch portion of course – which is only $9.95. Smart girls. Parents raising them with some sense. I noticed that Moon Pie didn’t say anything but I figured she was still undecided. Hmmph was I wrong. That big pie face heffa was just waiting to pull a fast one. The waiter came & we all ordered. Moon Pie was the last one to order. She had the audacity to cut her eyes at me before looking at the waiter and stating “Steak and shrimp platter please!”

“Hold up how much is that?” I asked

“$17.00.” Moon Pie stated with a smirk on her face. So I politely informed her shifty eyed ass that it was over the budget limit.

“Well I will just give you the $7 difference Aunt G.”

Against my better judgment I said ok. I mean after all I had treated the kids to that horrible movie, Norbitt, plus dropped them at Golden Corral for lunch. She wouldn’t take advantage of my kindness. Would she? Well I was soon to find out. After we finished the waiter came with the bill.

“Ok Moon Pie, give me your $7.”

She looked at me with a feral gleam in her eyes and calmly began “Well really Aunt G, I only owe you $3 cause you never paid me back the $4 I loaned you to get juice for your party that time.”

Now Folks yall know I was bout to put a cussing on that lil biach but I had to catch myself – she is a kid. And although there were several options available to me like making her pay for her own damn meal & I just give her $4. Going upside her head. Leaving her at the restaurant for her mammy to pick her up. Or not paying for any of her food so she could wash dishes. I simply laughed it off with a big sucker sticker on my forehead. Yeah the slickster – like mother like daughter – got me. But I guarantee you that bottom barrel future parolee won’t get me again. I paid & we rolled out but next time, when the kids get to go somewhere real gooood – like Clyde’s or Timbuktu – guess where Fat Betty will be. You guessed it. Home with her fake wanna be Rasta – Far-Eye-Heeey mammy!!!

I would tell yall how BBQ King tried me too but some things should remain between a man and a woman. Plus I gotta go take Testy T some of Bigmama’s homemade plum vitamin leaf juice and aloe leaf balm joint compound rubbing oil. It seems she shook a tail feather waaaaay too hard at the CIAA party last weekend in Charlotte. Now that heffa falling asleep in the bathroom & hopping to the bus stop! She know 30 and over don’t dance till dawn!

Bread of Life

Well I am sitting at work pissed like a MFR cause someone brought their trifling nosey, never do well ass in my office and messed up my damn heater. Had unplugged my stuff & turned the timer and ERY thang else! I know it wasn’t nobody but that Grandma Walton simple feeble minded bitter bark eating ass!! When she gets back to work on Friday I got something in store for that geriatric meddler. I’m gone slap 5lbs of black on her ass. Just wait.

I mean I already had a rough night before and to come in work to this foolishness is just beyond! That’s why I don’t go to the gym, ‘cause my week seems to go downhill from there. Against my better judgment I took my happy ass over to the company gym, put on my lil tight Trina-Miami-Hooker style workout pants and stood on the treadmill. I should’ve read the instructions first. I pressed the button for workout & speed and that shit nearly sent me backwards through the window, it was moving so fast!! Now yall know Ms G was not up for that. Of course there always has to be some ever so helpful YT on the next machine in these types of situation to offer advice and instruction. This was no exception. Lil Bean Pole Johnny Cakes decided to come over and “help” Ms G.

“What are your desired goals? I ask because I can set the right resistance and step zone which will allow you to maximize your body fat calorie burning potential and achieve the best results.” The long winded Johnny Cakes offered.

“My goal is to get on this MFR without messing up my knees and ankles and exercise my black ass in peace!” I haughtily replied. I was giving all the stereotypical busty big black woman I could pull out. Tyler Perry would be proud.

Obviously this YT’s mama raised him with some sense cause he took his lil pink ass back to his machine and left me alone. There was a brotha over on the weight bench looking at me sidewise like he was Jason Whitlock and I was the Grande Dame Marshall of the Black KKK. I could see him puffy his lips & chest with indignation and standing ready to deliver Ms G a set down.

I forestalled his impending doom by asking the question of life Auntie Black One taught me a long time ago “Have you ever had a good country ass whooping?” Honey that Nigra grabbed up his lil keys, ankle weights & sweat jacket and hit the door. Umm Umm umm. Just like I thought – the Whitlock kinds can talk a whole lotta junks on paper and camera. But put them suckers in front of the so called “ghetto” folks they talking bout & they will break camp for the plantation big house before massa can say “oranges & peanuts for Christmas.”

I laughed so hard at that fool I figured that constituted enough calories burned for the day. I got my stuff & headed for my car. I couldn’t wait to get home to my bed. But before I could crank the ignition good Lil G was blowing up my cell phone.

“Ma I’m hungry! Can you stop at the store and get some bread?” she wailed.

Now all the groceries I got stuffed in the frigidaire, the pantry, the cabinets, this lil heffa couldn’t find nothing to eat? I didn’t even bother to argue I just said ok whatever. I was so tired from my workout; Lord knows I did not want to stop.

Hemingway – Although there is a grocery store across the street from my house – Shoppers, nuff said – I typically drive down to a Giant a couple of miles away. But I was tired and said fluck it, I’ll take my chances at shoppers. The guy outside with the crooked sideburns trying to sell me some bootleg ass DVD’s should’ve been my first clue to turn around, but you know…. Anyway I go in the store. Get my bread. Head for the checkout lane. Put my stuff on the counter. Wait to be ringed. Easy right? NOT at shoppers.

It was apparent from the way she snatched my bread in the middle that my cashier was having a bad evening. I was about to point out to Laquisha Shanquae that she was mashing my soft wheat loaf, when she stopped ringing & answered her cell phone. Well that ghetto Michael Jackson the Wiz weave wearing hoochie Ho proceeded to have a conversation with her girl on the phone like I wasn’t E-Much there!!! I was pissed!!!

“Excuse me Miss, But would you mind not squishing my bread and cashing me out so I may exit your establishment?” I asked. Normally if you give the real proper I’m a nice educated person diction to a true ghetto gangster they’ll cut you some slack. I also give her my nicest ‘I’m superior so there’s no need to get upset with you’ smile. Well it was obvious Laquisha wasn’t in the mood for me at that moment.

“Rolonda Leyaza Fair, hold on let me ring this bum biach up ‘four I have to go off in this biach!” she exclaimed while rolling her eyes at me.

Now normally yall know I would have went off up in that joint & pulled out my blade. But one good look at Miss things arms & neck caused me to have a quick reflection on life. Bigmama ain’t raise no fool. Back in my younger days I would have tried her, but honey I ain’t as limber as I used to be. I was not about to roll around on the floor with a chick that looked like she’d been stacking bricks in east Baltimore. I politely paid for my lil squished up bread, thanked her & wished her a nice evening. Shit who gone feed Lil G if I get beat to a bloody pulp. Pick your battles people, pick your battles!