Its Saturday night, the Tito's Vodka is flowing and the Johnny Taylor tunes are blasting from my hi-fi. Yes, I know I sound like some old geriatric bitch...sitting in the corner of a jook joint. Hunched over a drank. Wig crooked. Panty hose sagging. Cussin out every sonofabitch near me. Talking about how the preacher is a no snake in the green grass an' he took all my money. How I miss my chirrens an' they living with my Ma and Pa in Miss' Sippi. Even though I wet his back up, I still love that man and plan to take care of him when he's released. Make some him cheese grits. Clean, then fillet the fish after his weekend trip. Cuz he deserves a break from the monotony. The sad serious world. A world where he's the boogey man. A world where he's labeled a dead beat dad. A no good n-word. A rapist. A bully. A convict. A conman. And every thing else you can think of. Lemme rub my eyes. I'll be able to see the glory of the world, once I take these eye lashes off. Yes, all of that old tavern bar fly shit.
I have the blues. O I ain't sad. I just got the blues. You see, I'm a Taurus. So I'm a moth to the flame. We like danger and frankly we like being sad, so that we can know what it's like to be glad. Some times we like to fry a batch of fish with no shirt on, just to see what'll happen. But the thing is, nobody likes a pock marked set of titties. So, you do what you must to protect your rack. And that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to protect my rack. And by rack, I mean my homeland. Protections for The United States. And America.
(fuck you, I'm drinking vodka).
Now you might be thinking "Damn Slick, why are you being so daft? So tasteless...trite." Listen, I'm may be woman, but I'm no fucking lady. Hurling hand grenades is my Modus Operandi. I was born and raised on Chicago's West & Southside's, so I've got a mouth on me. I also carry a piece. Break yo self fool!
I'm kidding. But I've seen just about everything. I've seen crackheads rob people at knife point; I've also seen them clean up a yard better than a landscape architect. I've seen fathers beat the hell out of their children for bringing home a bad grade. I've also seen these same fathers put their lives in jeopardy to save his youngest from gang war fare. These same fathers that work 13 hours at the Ford car plant. The Jays Potato Chip plant. Or maybe the sell flowers, oils, black soap, CDs and incense on the side of the freeway. Just like the Gods & Goddesses' throughout the ages, they weren't perfect. But they worked to protect us. They worked for us. They raise(d) They belong to us.
Stay with me. This is going somewhere.
If you don't believe in fairies, witches, superheroes, warlocks, or Orisha's then I suppose it's okay. We all have our beliefs. But I pity you. I'm a believer. You see, I've grown up witnessing supernatural events. Occurrences that cannot be explained by logic. Precedence broken by Herculean efforts. For instance, I've seen my own mother strike and send a drunken man across an intersection, while she walked me to school. The fucktard made the mistake of calling her a bitch. And she socked him. I swear it was like she had some jerk reaction that sent this fool aerial cross 57 &State street. If neurologists did a study on my mother, they wouldn't be able to understand how the forcefulness, zest, pungency in contact that she had against another mothafucka's face.
I suppose it comes from years of defense. You see, after that whole slavery thing in North America I'm gonna go out on a limb and say quite a few black people developed super natural powers.
Stay with me ya'll. *Michelle Bachmann., you syphilis cock-brain rotted trollop...your entrance is coming up soon.
Where was I oh yes, black people. Black people. Yes. There have been songs, movies, poems and plenty of epitaphs phrased for us. And you can this add this vodka infused/addled one to the long list.
Enter Michelle B.
Michelle Bachmann. You dry tool. You are a complete fucking mess. A weasel, that's what you are. You are as a candle, better burnt out. You borderline NO intelligence. You claim to be a principal performer with unwavering values to honor the conservative. I say you have values to honor a cockroach. It bothers me because, roaches are hard to exterminate.
What the motherfuck do you know about black American family values? What do you know about Af- Am ANYTHING?
"Slavery had a disastrous impact on African-American families, yet sadly a child born into slavery in 1860 was more likely to be raised by his mother and father in a two-parent household than was an African-American baby born after the election of the USA first African-American President."
This motherfucker ain't even watched an episode of Good Times. She ain't even seen the episode of What's Happening? where Rerun gets in trouble with the Doobie Brothers. The fuck she know about black families? or ANYTHING?! The fuck she know about when James died? Or when Claire and Cliff danced to "Candy"? When James Earl Jones declared the system was a Fraud in Claudine? What you know about breaking up a fight over BidWhist? Piling in the car Sunday morning for church? Getting your hair pressed? Pouring the grease back into a jar, after a fry because you can use it again? Taking down your girl's braids? Sending your man or big brother off to the Million Man March?
Soul Clap? Michelle can you soul clap? Can you dance under a water plug? Wild N Out Out to Chuck D? Oh mothafucka Bachmann, you don't know black family, like I know Black family.
When I first heard of Michelle Bachmann, I was for sure she was a joke. I thought it was one of those stoned commercials that they late at night air on Adult Swim. I kept thinking "No, she isn't serious." But she is. And people, she has support.
"Does that mean that someone's 13-year-old daughter could walk into a sex clinic, have a pregnancy test done, be taken away to the local Planned Parenthood abortion clinic, have their abortion, be back and go home on the school bus? That night, mom and dad are never the wiser." -Rep. Michele Bachmann October 2009
Will somebody waterboard this skeezer?
Okay fine, she's not a card carrying member of a supremacist group. I'm not going to even call this person racist...but I will call her (and her PR people) a bunch of worms. Vile goblins, these motherfuckas.
Lady, you have no fucking idea what black people went thru then (slavery) OR now (so called post racial). It rattles me to the bone, that some people actually listen to this brazen faced piglet. We live in a country of free speech, so far be it from me to silence her silly mutterings. But if that bitch get to say silly shit, then so do I.
Slavery in America wasn't that long ago. Most of us (white and black) could dig thru the family records and find some remnant of that awful time. I doubt many people will think "Oh well, slavery was fucked up...but hey at least Mamie,Tom and little Farina had guaranteed work and housing at that time. Job security was fucking great for slaves. So raising a family is a no brainer. Yes! Thanks to my great great great uncle Thaddeus, I helped black families. And I will tonight, at the strip club. Hello Funiqua ... yes I will buy you some of that Moscato."
I could choose to ignore this asshole. But Bachman, just like the Tea Party are really fucking up my high (don't get it confused with tea dunking darling). It's easy to ignore what's happening in the news these days. The debt ceiling is real. So is racism. You can change the station and block out the conversations, but the shit is real. Don't be duped into ignoring both. Racism and the Tea Party are demons that are fed by ignorance and apathy. I'm not one to tell you what to do, but...I will urge you to pay attention. *And I will urge you to pray to the chicken & watermelon gods for people like Herman Cain. Dude. You have got to be fucking kidding me, right?
Ugh. It's too much going on in the silly serious world. Mum is poppin in the Benny Hill DVD right now. Can't deal...
Protect your country. And your rack.
ciao for now,