Nigras & The Underground Railroad

Hi Family!!! You missed me? Sure you did. In case you’re wondering and I know there are all types of rumors flying around about where Ms G has been. NO I have not been on John McCain’s campaign team and I was NOT kidnapped in Iraq and rescued by Private Benjamin. Yours truly WAS on the Harriet Tubman silent sojourn for truth and you know Ms Tubman didn’t allow any talking on her freedom runs. Therefore I had to keep a silent tongue, watchful eye and quick feet. And I tell you folks I almost made it to the mountain top. Almost planted my feet on the freedom land of mental clarity, spiritual awareness and physical awakening and in-tunement (is that a word – well it is now) with Gods green earth. Until a SUPER NIGRA moment derailed my whole Underground Railroad freedom train.

I was steady on my path to being a kindler, gentler human being. Having hope for the world. Even when the Clintons paraded Bob Johnson, Steve Erkel looking non-talking grammatically challenged @ss out to call Obama a bud smoker – I held my peace. When I leaned over at work to sign a document & my zipper popped seven ways to the Sabbath, no obscenities (cuss words for my dictionary challenged readers) crossed my lips. When little house guest number one glued her eyelid shut, I never uttered a mumbling word. Just drove her lil @ss to the hospital so they could paint her a new eye.

So proud of myself I was!!! Ms G was going to be a new spiritual guru. Hell I was even kind to King of the Hill (or should I say Blind Mans Bluff) when he pulled a Fidel on our @ss at the plantation and rolled out. I had arrived to MY NEW BODY OF COMMUNICATION WITH SPIRIT WORLD OF MOTHER EARTH!! But yall, you know Nigras just can’t let $hit be. Nigras always got to mess up something. And Mustafa, BBQ Kings sibling, is just that type of Nigra. I believe she was waiting in the circle of life to pounce unsuspectingly on my Ms G’s Mother Earth @ss.

Obviously she & BBQ King passed the crack pipe one to many times at the family dinner table when they was growing up. This MFR had the audacity to email me at the plantation first thing in the morning bout Mustafa called HIM saying she was gone borrow MY minivan and take bout 6 - 7 of her friends to New York to watch a taping of Amateur Night at the Apollo on March 1st. He was even kind enough to provide her itinerary – “they will depart Saturday morning and return sometime Sunday afternoon”

“Sofia, Sofia that sho is a pretty name”

See yall the bible say “when I was a child, I spake as I child. When I became a man I put away foolish things” or some such statement. I know my scripture but M-I-S-T-E-R PERIOD obviously forgot his.

“Gal, what you say to Miss Millie?”

“I say HELL NAWL!”

“What her Say?”

“Her say HELL NAWL!”

Just eat the cake Anna Mae!!!! That’s right peoples if that greasy nigra had of been in my reach I would have Ike Turnerd his @ss from the grave for asking me that dumbness!! Who in the 4, 5 hells he think gone let that fake Rastafarian, pon the neck nappy dread section 8 pull my pu$$y for a sour pork chop scent @ss heffa and her first of the month friends turn my $hit into a party bus? Them nigras is obviously smoking DEAFF (as Kat Williams would say – Nigga this $hit right here)

Needless to say I was pissed!! This required some spiritual counseling. After a consultation with Sistah Soulja, Carrabana (who swears BBQ didn’t forget to ask me at home, he just didn’t want me to Linda Blair his @ss) and Mama’ Nem – who asked me to ask BBQ was some kinda incest going on that he would dare the nerve to ask me that, I figured the best thing to do was pray it out and direct BBQ & Mustafa to roll some quarters, pennies, nickels, dimes & whatever other change they could get begging on Benning road in front of the Shrimp Boat and head on down to Pookie’s Emporium of Designer Nameplates, Cucci bags and rental cars,