Shocked And Surprised!!

There I was.
Casually crusin' the internet interstate lookin' for tantalizing topics of discussion when I decided to make a pit stop here: http://blackgirlsareeasy.blogspot.com/


Couldn't believe what I was readin'.
Was this guy for real?
He took the subject of "steppin' out on your mate" to a brand new level.
Givin' us gurls a blow-by-blow(no pun intended) blueprint of how we can indeed have our cake and eat it too.





Y'all gonna have to 'scuse me but it's 'bout to get REAL funky up in here.
Check this out.
Cheatin' is WRONG.
PERIOD.

•I don't care if you're a NFL OR NBA baller.



•Doesn't matter if you can make an individual orgasmically combust from all the cash you may have in your bank accounts.



•It's irrelevant if you've got game good enough to make him or her " leave the one their with to start a new relationship with you."



•Don't care if you've got boobs big enough to end world hunger.

It just...AINT. RIGHT.



I'm about to take a hard left with this convo so hang on tight.
Any man who has big enough walnut sacs to call a woman out her name because she chooses to
"test drive" a different model car than the one she has sittin' at home, can politely kiss my San Andreas Fault line.
Now.
I ain't sayin' that ole' girl is livin' right.
But damn y'all.
What happened to equal opportunity?
Why she gotta be called skank?
Chickenhead?
Bitch?
How 'bout stankin' azz ho?
If a lady is all of these thangs, than what does that make a man who's gettin' down and dirty just like the sista' is?

WE GET IT ALREADY!!!

Say hello to the new "Kim Kardashian" of the sports world.
Dang Serena!
Is she feelin' like she doesn't already get enough attention from rippin' and runnin' 'round that tennis court in those itty bitty skirts and thangs?
I'm sayin'.
This was supposed to be a reputable sports award ceremony.
Not the BET or Soul Train Awards.



Her stylist should have told her to tuck her tata's back in just a wee bit more.
The public doesn't need to be able to see if her areolas are the color of black coffee.
I'm surprised her nip-nips didn't spontaneously combust from all that fiery friction.
For real though.
There's nothin' wrong with a woman tryin' to look her best and break a few necks cuz she workin' it out.
But damn.
You can look sexy without lookin' like a slutburger with a side order of sleaze and skank.
Leave a lil' sumthin'-sumthin' to the imagination.



Thing is, Serena is a BEAST on the tennis court.
She actually has talent and skills that don't require that she flex her pelvic muscles and take xrays just to prove that her booty wan't manufactured in a factory.



All that boobage and booty wasn't even enough to keep him rooted and grounded:



Listen y'all.
'Rena can command attention for her tennis game alone.
She don't have to resort to lookin' like a high priced madame to be noticed.
The Lord already gave her somethin' to work with without her "cups" havin' to "run over."

Maybe It's Just Me But...

Maybe what I'm about to say would be considered sacrilege.
Oh well.
I'll chant my Hail Mary's and light the prayer candles later.
But I just can't hold back no longer.
IDRIS ELBA'S ACTING IS AS FLAT AS A WARM, UNOPENED 3 LITER BOTTLE OF SPRITE.
There.
I said it.
Whether he's bein' the doting, dutiful dad:



Or the bad boy bank robber:



His performances are yawn worthy.
To me, he always acts the same no matter what kind of character he tries to portray.
He is marvelously mundane and mediocre.
Sorry Idris.

Wish I Was More Like Her..

When my darlin' 18 year old-she child left home, I felt like Evander must've felt when Mike decided to have a snack and nibble on his ear.
Confused. Dazed. EXCRUCIATING PAIN.
She left home cuz she knew that she couldn't have her red velvet cake and eat it too.
Here was our issue.
She was involved with a dude that I felt was just too dang old.
I mean, what was wrong with her gettin' a lil high school homeboy?
After all, she was still a senior.
Not quite grown yet.




It was brought to my attention that she had been sneakin' behind my back and still choppin' it up with this man.
I'm sorry, but that just didn't sit well with me.
See, my parenting philosophy was real simple.
If she didn't like the ground rules that I had set up, well..
Let's put it this way.
It's my job to take care of KIDS, not kids tryin' to be GROWN.
Told her that she couldn't continue to eat, sleep and be taken care of if my guidelines couldn't be followed.
Guess I told her, huh?



Gotta be real and say that it didn't quite go the way that I thought it would.
She was supposed to be too SCARED to be out there in the big wide world.
Without the help and support of her mommy dearest.
Chile' please.
She ended up callin' her man, packed her stuff and got GHOST.
Man, my mind was movin' a million miles a second.
She did it.
SHE REALLY WALKED OUT OF HERE TO BE WITH HER BABY BOO.
Gave up everything that was familiar and somewhat safe to forge out into the unknown.



Ok.
What I'm about to say may sound mad crazy and off the wall.
Kinda like Hannibal Lecter or Charles Manson-crazy.
But today was my drinkin' day so here it goes.
I ADMIRED HER.
Felt like she was my heroine.
My girl didn't know what was waitin' for her once her feet hit the door.
She knew that when she left up out of here that it was gonna be a DONE DEAL.
Wasn't allowed to come back.
Yet, because she didn't want to take a gamble and lose a potential good thing, she took her chances and rolled out.
She didn't allow her fear to keep her from pursuing her passion.
HIM.



Coincidentally, I'm facin' a somewhat similar situation with my own Mom and my fiance.
Think she would rather see me with the likes of Napoleon Dynamite.
We're two best friends at a crossroads.
While the choice is obvious, it's not an easy one.
I love my Mom with every single fiber of my being.
But my fiance is the only man that I want to spend the rest of my life loving.
I'm taking a page out of my teen queen's book and going forth not knowing what lies ahead.
Like her, I'm willing to take the risk.

Smooth Sunday Sounds

Teddy.


His lyrics go down like an icy cold glass of Chardonnay.


Velvety smooth.


His music is subtly sensual, but not graphically sexual.


What's a quiet storm without the thunder that Teddy's tunes bring down?

I Ain't Feelin' Her Right Now!

I had alot of respect for her.
She can sing AND tickle the keys.
AT THE SAME TIME.
Her lyrics are movin' and upliftin'.
Plus, the fact that she is drop dead GAWJUS sho' doesn't hurt her none.



I feel like Alicia is before her time in terms of her sound.
Like she has an old soul.
She ain't singin' 'bout nobody droppin' they booty to da floor and makin' it quake.
When she comes out on stage to perform, you can't see if she has nipple rings or see her Tampax string danglin' from between her thighs.
The girl's style screams class.
Grace.
Respect.



Don't get me wrong.
She's still as pretty as a picture.
Can still tear a piano up.
It's her sense of MORALITY (or lack thereof) that's got my bikinis in a bunch.
Y'all already know what I'm talkin' bout.
Her and Swizz Tweets.
Oh my fault.
But doesn't he look strangely like some exotic bird species that you might find in the bushes of the Bahamas?
Let's face it.
Swizz had a wife.
A family.



Before this all went down, Swizz and Alicia had been workin' very closely together.
I get that.
But when she felt like her feelings were movin' out of the friends' zone and into the "please throw me down on the soundboard and sex me till my knees cramp up" zone she had a chance to check herself AND him.
Obviously, she didn't.
Can you imagine how Mashonda must have felt?
That's right.
Like a thong wedged in between the butt cheeks of a 450 lb woman.
Deserted AND betrayed.
I gotta say though.
Shonda handled it like a true champ.


I'm sure Alicia had plenty of dudes who would've given up they playa' status just for the CHANCE to even clean her toilet bowl.
What was wrong with gettin' with a man who was SINGLE??!!
Forgive me.
But I have zero tolerance for these type of home wreckin' shenanigans.
I mean, they didn't just have some torrid, passionate one year affair.
Alicia got knocked up.
That was heartbreakin'.
They didn't just elope and go runnin' off to a justice of the peace or even let Elvis marry them in Vegas.
These peeps had an elaborate Nefertiti-Nile River-Egyptian type themed wedding.



As a woman, I felt this one.
To me, this was a like givin' a woman a bitch slap wearin' brass knuckles.
HELLA PAINFUL.
In the wise words of Grant M. Bright:
"You reap what you sow. Life is like a boomerang. Our thoughts, deeds, and words return to us sooner or later with astounding accuracy."




Alicia gurl, let's take a quiz.
Here's my first question to you:

Friday's Femme Fatale

Soulful.
Sensual.
Smooth.
Sassy.
Jill Scott.
All the way REAL.
All the way LIVE.



Even though she works in the land of Hollywhore ('scuse me I meant Hollywood), I've never heard about her:
*Havin' sex tapes floatin' around on the net
*Messin' 'round with somebody else's man or husband
*Havin' someone conveniently "leak" nekkid or revealin' pics of her layin' on her bed with her finger stuck in her nether regions
Now, don't get me wrong.
I ain't sayin' that she isn't participatin' in any of these asinine activities.
She's just classy enough that we never really HEAR too much about her private life.



Her music isn't a bunch of feel good beats with mindless flow and lyrics.
It has substance.
Musically meaty.
She talks about topics and issues that I as a woman can relate to.
She ain't talkin 'bout sexin' a man out of all dey dough.
Not singin' 'bout goin' shoppin' with her gurls at stores where they ain't even HIRIN' black women let alone shoppin' there.
Nah.
Ms. Scott is on a whole 'nother level.



I'm not sayin' her music is rated PG.
She keeps it gully... but just in a sophisticated kind of way.
If you listen to some of the words in her songs, you can tell that Jill is probably a freak-a-leek.
Good for her.
Here's an example.
These are some the verses to one of her tunes called "Epiphany:"

Watching,
Watching as he took the holder off his shoulder
Fire in his eyes, hands gettin' bolder
...dug him for his bank account but really for his private
Damn about a mindset
Really wasn't into that
Needed me some pleasin' his jawn lookin' real fat
Started simple
Massaging on my temple
Pinching on my....

Honey, this girl puts sex in spoken word like I ain't neva heard before!
If you like those lyrics, this song can be found on this cd:

This Chick Needs Some Help!!

Don't get it twisted.
I support my sistas, mmkay?
I don't make a practice of drinkin' tall, frosty glasses of Haterade.
I just tells it like I sees it.
Now,what I'm about to say may indeed get me some mean mugs and maybe even some smackin' and poppin' of the lips.
But I'm prepared cuz what I'm about to preach is GOSPEL.



Lisa Raye.
Beautiful?
Of course she is...no Stevie Wonder here.
But let's be real.
Her actin' skills are as stank as orangutan poop roasted over an open fire.
No matter what role she plays, she always plays it the SAME WAY.
HORRENDOUSLY HOOD.



Is it any wonder that most movies she ends up in look like a film student's homework project?
Ya know the ones.
The actors have like 5 minute pauses between each line.
Hairstyles lookin' like they came straight from the pages of Homemade Hoochie Hair.
The actin' styles are seriously overdone like Golden Corral's meatloaf.
Are you thinkin' that I have no appreciation for the various riveting roles that Lisa plays?
Haha.
Then check out this sad sack of shiznit:




If you don't want to see Clifton Powell's hershey squirt skid marks in his tidy whitey's, I wouldn't watch this one.
Nah. I'm serious.
Or how about this one:



WOW.
I haven't even seen this one in the $5.00 bin at Wally World.
See what I'm sayin?
She's got high class looks with low budget skills.
Somehow she wormed her way onto VH1's Single Ladies.







This is just my opinion as humble as it may be, but perhaps she should just stick to modelin'.


At least that way she doesn't have to open her mouth.

Movin' On...

With each passing day I've come to realize a fundamental truth.
LIFE CHANGES.
Yes indeed.
I remember my first taste of what REAL freedom felt like.
Graduation Day baby!
Glidin' and slidin' down that aisle while the tassle on my cap kept whippin' and wavin' in my face.
My parents plottin' and plannin' how they was gonna "rechristen" all the rooms in the house once they child done finally hit the bricks.
Ok. Wait. (Needle scratchin' on the record).
Never mind. That visual almost made last night's din din resurface.
Anywhooters, I had everything all mapped out.




College.
Grad school.
PhD.
Marriage.
Open up my own marriage counseling practice.




I actually did get to college.
Partied a lil' bit. Studied more though.
Yes, I am a certfied geek (but a COOL one).
Enlightening experience.
Studied there for 2.5 years until...




Dropped out of school.
Moved me and my wee lil' one down to the home of gators and orange trees.
Lived with my boyfriend/baby daddy/buttwipe.
One year later.



Are you sick of me yet?
I dang sure am!!
Mom and Dad decided to call it quits.
She loads up the Lincoln and we move on down to the land of the two step and rodeos.
Welp. It's been 15 years.
I've endured 3 MORE young ones, several dead end jobs AND a marriage spurned from the boughs of HELL.
But I'm still here. With most of my sanity in tact.
I've since divorced and am engaged to wonderful man who embraces my weaknesses and doesn't EXPLOIT them.
My children and I are pilin' up the movin' truck and beatin' feet to the land of sunny skies and endless beaches.



Guess what?
Once I get to my destination, I'm goin' back to finish my education and become that counselor that I always dreamed about.
Am I scared?
Shakin' like a crack fiend tryin' to go cold turkey.
But ya know, I've decided to allow my fear to motivate me in the right direction.
No more lookin' back.
Full steam ahead.

Smooth Sunday Sounds

I live in the land of cowboys, beef brisket and beans.
The main music choice around these parts is the likes of Faith Hill & Tim McGraw.
Forgive me for my bluntness, but..country music makes me want to do a flyin' leap off the Statue of Liberty.
With no parachute.
What I need is the soothing sounds of an alto sax mixin' and minglin' with the melodies of a electric guitar.
Mmmhmm.





My Perfect Recipe for Sunday Sounds:

• Two Tablespoons of Fourplay


• A couple cups of George Benson


• Mix well with Jazzmasters and Pieces of a Dream


• Sit back, relax and allow these sounds to musically marinate and permeate your senses!

Here's my Sunday Sound pick for today:

Friday's Femme Fatale

They don't make 'em quite like this no mo'. Yes suh! Pam Grier was...THAT. WOMAN. Badly behaved. But she had reason to be.
They killed her man.
One time some thugs tried to take over her daddy's business. Y'all know Pam wasn't goin' for dat!!
She fought for truth.
Justice.
Who else you know that could wear a slinky and sexy dress, wield a double barreled shotgun, AND throw some karate kicks that would make even Bruce Lee envious?
Ya betta' know it!!
My girl Pam.



For all my blaxplotation buds out here in Blogsville, tonight startin' at 8, you can catch Pam packin' a powerful punch in:
Sheba Baby
Coffy
AND...
Foxy Brown!!!

So jump in ya jammies, pop some kettle corn, grab a glass goblet of grape Kool-Aid, and tune into TV-One!!
If for some reason, ya can't tune in at that time, then DVR IT!!