Today’s Word is… CALLS


So I’m not a phone person; I’m a writer…I need cogitation, rumination in this dancery.  Tequila was the exception, she would call anyway, I would answer and suddenly it’s like 2 am and I’m counting how many hours of sleep I will have if I go to sleep at that instant and would I have time to grab coffee I will desperately need.  We could talk about everything and nothing at the same time, like how many times the WB tried to make fetch happen with Holly Robinson Peete, the Panama papers, how petty Prince is being in heaven or how neo soul songs be so smooth you don’t realize how much of a fuckboy they’re being.  I enjoyed our calls, it became my new normal.  After it was over I thought maybe she finally had broke my long cold war with the phone call…she didn’t.  Even from people I like, I can’t hide my lack of enthusiasm for this call.  After I say what needs to be said its like, I need to throw this napkin away, lemme call you right back.  (Don’t expect a call back).  Then there’s someone like my father, who wants everything he needs to know in that one call, efficiently.  Then he runs out of gas, it becomes “so…’re still a manager at that place, huh?”  

If only there was a way to say something when you have something to say and just not when you don’t…oh yeah, like a text message. But instead of being too much like right, we hold on to this romantic notion of the phone call.   We think back to the days of R&B song voicemails, 3 way calling, and eagerly anticipating calls from people you already seen today. Meh. Perchance it’s introversion, millennialism, or whatever but don’t call me, B. 

1. It’s intrusive –  The first time my office phone rang I was legit startled, like why is this paper weight making noise. I cringe when my cell screen lights up with an incoming call as I wait for it to go away because EVERYONE knows when it goes to voicemail after a ring and a half you’ve been rejected (why isn’t there an app for this, let freedom ring).  At least text first, you don’t know what I’m up to or who I’m with for that matter.

2. What you want – I assume most out the blue calls are pocket dials, at which point I will text to confirm.  Unlike a text where your actual thought is there to be read and interpreted…I don’t know why you called, and unless there’s a voicemail or an elucidating text I’m gonna assume it’s nothing which brings…

3. Public phone calls – I’m tickled by other people having private ass conversations out in public, myself I hate it.  I refuse to be the one having the wildly inappropriate convo…like the other day this girl was leaving the gentleman’s home, apparently he didn’t make a move, she wondered to her friend does he like women or maybe he has a disease. (if this conversation was any indication I can see why he passed, but I’m sleep).  I couldn’t not hear this conversation, and so I was 

a) waiting to see if someone on the train was going to cuss her out

b) astounded how comfortable she was having this conversation in public…like that was a group text topic if there ever was one

Lost are the days of private conversations in the kitchen, fiddling with the cord, speaking of…

4. Cell service is trash – I can barely hear you, or you can’t hear me…I would get a landline but then Comcast gives your number to telemarketers  (stay woke).  Doesn’t matter if you’re Android or iPhone, Verizon or T’s all shaky. It’s 2016 and technology has gotten worse in this regard…or maybe they realize no one wants to talk on the phone.  

5. I said what I said –   I don’t like calling customer service, I will read that ass in a DM tho.  I’ve made it a practice to email my boss when I’m calling out because she loves to make a quick call out a business call full of updates and all the adulting shit I’ve already made a decision not to do today.  It’s simply more convenient to have what I need to say, right there in black and white and undebateable. “I’m not feeling well, I won’t make it in ok thanks bye.” So much easier than picking up the phone trying to sound like Jeezy and sell this cold. 

Most people who are strongly pro phone call are anti text because of the implied dismissal that comes with it.  Convenient means effortless, effortless means uninvested, and uninvested means a 10 year situationship. Crack, crevice, deviance.  Being called versus texted has become a line in the sand; I need your undivided attention, for reasons.    Why not up the ante, is a facetime more intimate than a phone call now? Are we not allowed to multitask anymore?  Or is this all just…silly.  Communication is communication, whether it’s read or heard and frankly, most of what you have to say can be said in about 300 characters.  If not, we can discuss over lunch instead.  


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Today’s Word is… ONLINE

As someone who spends a lot of time online, I’m not a big fan of online dating. I enjoy the randomness of life; I like the idea that I may meet the love of my life at Target, stealing a glance on the subway, at some function neither of us were super enthused to be at in the first place.  I guess you can call it fate or whathaveyou, but there’s a bit of that lost when you are swiping through profiles getting a bae made to order.  I could be like I want curls, goals, thick, wit, demure, secure…YOU NAAAAME IT whilst swiping left on all that doesn’t apply, but who knows if I met any of them in a different circumstance I wouldn’t be interested.  What gets lost in swiping is you get caught up in next, next, next you don’t even realize what you’re passing on.

 There’s a deliberateness to online dating that I can’t rock with.  People wield the power of the swipe and go against their own self interests.  Most people don’t know what they want.  It’s not much unlike your career, yes there are people who knew they wanted to be a doctor since they was 5, but most people find what they are good at, finds somewhere that will pay them well to do that and go from there.   Online dating sites would lead to believe everyone on there is really trying to find someone special but in my experience it appears to be anything but.

Yes, experience…I actually decided to give online dating a shot, for the culture. I tried two sites, OKCupid because the stats nerd in me was curious about who would match well with me and Black Tinder aka SoulSwipe, because I just find the name funny.  (Also my OKC inbox was looking like Make America Great Again, more on that later).  I did a few weeks on each, kept an open mind about it, had a handful of dates but ultimately…I’m as single as when I joined.

So, SoulSwipe.  Soulswipe is pretty straightforward, name, age, height, short bio and some facebook pics.  Swipe right for yes, left for no, if you match then you can message, iight bet.  (I also just learned that once you swipe left they are gone forever, like, what if it was an accident…maybe she didnt realize how much worse it’d get, that feels unfair…there aint even a maybe pile…that’s some ol bullshit)  Besides that, my biggest takeaway….do you even want to be on here?  Some profiles read more like a rider list than an introduction. “If you just say hi, I’ll just ignore”, “don’t ask me about my day”, like every time a dude slipped up it was a new rule on the page, the online equivalent of putting heads on the stake.  I can recognize the privilege at play, I don’t know that life of countless people in my inbox and it’s like, you didn’t even pretend to read my page or all you said was hi and they asking for pictures. However, if you’re on a dating site hoping to meet new people, you kinda have to be, you know, open to meeting new people.  You swiped right too, ma.  The people I connected with were open and able to laugh at themselves, while others…didn’t get my humor.  Which is the ultimate dealbreaker if there ever was one. I’m hilarious.

So on to OKC.  I made a full profile, a couple pictures but I mainly focused on the questions for a solid sample size. The matching system seemed accurate enough, but I tend to have good chemistry with everybody, I know a little bit of everything. My overwhelming result was a lot of white women, devout Christians, and homebodies. Apparently, the line about avocados was an icebreaker on a silver platter or I’m actually Donald Glover.  Church girls, well, we know what happened last time, and homebodies…that may have been the biggest takeaway.  I went out with 2 women who were pretty chill and realized how much I don’t necessarily want someone like me. I need someone who pushes me out my comfort zone, gives me balance. The people I actually connected best with were in the 70% range, have some things in common but plenty of differences to bicker about, they are the type who would be out anyway without me, the type who would be a friend of a friend, who I would run into at a happy hour, hell, even meet on Twitter.  There can’t be two me’s in a relationship.

By the end of my experiment I got, 2 books and a possible. (I learned how to play Spades from someone I met offline, score 1 for the real world). Of course, plenty of people have found love online.  Some more deliberate, like on a dating site, others more casual and started with a DM.  They say you always find what you’re looking for when you aren’t so doesn’t that fly in the face of dating sites anyway? I’m not knocking it, I just recognize it’s not really for me.  (Well unless I ever get around to making that dating app, then online dating is the way to go, don’t nobody be going to bars anymore, get with the times).  I guess I’m still good with flying blind and not really forcing my hand yet. Perhaps one day I’ll see if my Match and I find some e-harmony over where Black people meet or where Christians mingle. I’m sure there’s plenty of fish in the sea.


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Today’s Word is… DAUGHTER

It was about a decade ago (shit, I’m old).  Me and my  boys, per usual were chilling in my room afterschool.  One of my boys was going through it with his girl, and it brought about a roundtable discussion on women.  I was always the old soul of the group, so I was giving what little game I thought I had back then. I’m spitting all the bars about what women think they want when the room grows quiet…my mother was standing in the doorway, just observing the lecture. We were all oblivious to how long she been there or what she had heard, so it’s just awkward glances around.  She comes in the room, kisses me to assassinate any thug I thought I possessed; takes one good look at all of our guilty faces and declares: “All of y’all are having daughters” and walked away. 
My boy Crawf would have his baby girl 6 years later, as did my man Falc.  My brother would have one as well, (my boy Smeg fucked up the whole narrative and had a son a few years ago, but black lives matter, facts don’t).  Then a few days ago I would see the ultrasound of a baby girl from another friend, proving that even from beyond the grave, my mother’s decree would ring true, all of us having daughters. 

As my boy showed me the ultrasound and I gave my congratulations, he joked that hex is still on, I’m finna be next. Eh, we just elected a sexual offender as President I’ll see what 2021 hitting on.   The hex was a coincidence, if every dude running the streets was destined to have a girl, we’d be out of sons.  It did make me wonder, if I was really next up…what type of father would I be?  What could I teach my baby girl about this world that grows to be more dangerous for black people? For women?  

What example would I lead, as a man.  I think of my dad, and as great of a father he is, as we got older his faults as a husband elucidated.  I fear bringing a daughter in this world and not being in love with her mother, perhaps the biggest reason I don’t have children yet.  I would like to be married, I would hope that we serve as the example of what love is supposed to be.  I can’t be out here looking like Future.  I would hope when my own looks for an example of a good man she has to look no farther than me.  I would hope we would be the black love she sees, the first family will have come and gone, maybe Jay and Bey will still be going strong.  Probably not tho.

I would want her to understand her worth. (Can see still say, keep my baby off the pole or is that problematic now…keep my baby off Iyanla, I feel like that’s a safer one).  I would want my daughter to know she’s always in control (except under my roof n shit) to never alter her morals or expectations to appease others.   I would want her to know she is beautiful, she is gifted, she is loved.  Her daddy black as hell, her mama TBD, probably going to be black as hell (In case I meet a white woman let me say I’m sorry Margaret, Susan or Becky…I wrote this before we met), and so, my daughter TBD, black as hell.  I want her to know that her skin, her hair, her nose, her lips are beautiful.  And that she got her smarts from Dad. 

I would also want her to know to never follow anyone’s timeline but her own,  love herself and to love God, how change her own tire but don’t dare introduce me to a man who can’t, white feminism is a farce, and flats > drums. 




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Today’s Word is… TRUMP


I don’t wanna talk about it.

 I don’t want to talk about 3rd party voting, or the electoral college and how literally every other election is decided by most votes win except the most important one.  I have no comment on the large amount of white women who picked white supremacy over their own gender, or the liberal millenials who went from went from Occupy Wall Street to corrupt housing mogul turned President elect a mere decade after a housing crisis Donald Trump.  I literally can’t even unpack the idea that the first black President will hand over control to a candidate endorsed by the KKK, 4 days after Martin Luther King Day. Oh, then there’s the fact that while Clinton detractors continue to bring up the 1994 crime bill that her HUSBAND passed, the President-elect has a NEW crime bill that he wants passed in the first 100 days. Let’s not talk about his plan at all, because why do that when you can run 100 ads of kids watching TV instead. I won’t talk about that neither.   Oh by the way, with Republican controlled congress, there is literally nothing to stop him.  That means Obamacare, marriage equality, Roe v Wade, immigration rights can all be wiped out.  No more DOJ investigations into police departments, lord forbid when another unarmed black person is killed….I REALLY don’t want to talk about that. 

I don’t want to talk about “lesser of two evils”, when one person was the Secretary of State for the President you admire, and the other claim to political fame was calling him a Kenyan on Twitter. I don’t want to talk about your false definition of Stockholm syndrome you learned from a meme. Don’t share posts from your 10th grade dropout cousin pretending to be a political expert. I know “Jesus is still king” but that really isn’t much solace at the moment, auntie.  Black people have been through worse, I know, but why can’t I chill for a bit?  Yes, I’m completely aware that my favorite football player may have voted for him.   Oh, I’m sure Bernie would’ve won even though he couldn’t beat the person who just lost.  Tell me white coworker, why is it always time to come together when Y’ALL do something wrong?   I don’t need to see your status about how you knew this would happen even though you have no evidence to suggest it ergo you are just giving an opinion horribly disguised as fact.  Tell me more about how you’re leaving the country.  As I recall you at least need a passport and money for that but you know, good luck. 

Is it me or are we still forgetting about the fraud and rape cases against our next President?  What if he is forced to resign? President Mike Pence?  Mr Make America straight again via shock therapy?  Mr Looks like the guy cheering the loudest at little league games even though he doesn’t have kids? Is this real life?  Was this payback for electing a black President?  An ivy league educated President?  This whitelash was unnecessary, not like black people elected Kanye. Can you imagine if black people came out in droves to elect a loud and wrong Gemini with a delusional level of self worth and no experience?  We would have to ignore years of sexist statements and pretend his inarticu lateness was somehow charming.  Do you see his twitter rants?  Imagine giving THAT guy the nuclear codes…That would be so reckl–oh. 

Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it. 

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Today’s Word is… INCONVENIENCE 

So I typically don’t dabble in the gossip news, outside of stories I may see on my Twitter feed and the tabloid covers waiting in line at the Supermarket;  Kanye supposedly cheats on Kim a lot, and apparently Ben Affleck been married to 30 going on 30 girl for a decade (actually they’re divored because you can’t BE Batman if you aren’t miserable).  So when I saw the story of Mariah Carey breaking up with her billionaire boyfriend, I shrugged.  I mean I never thought they belonged together, it was just a sweet, sweet fantasy baby I’m sure she gave her all and a hero will come along and she can shake it off one sweet day.  I’m sure it’s just emotions. However, all she wants for Christmas is to sue….for an inconvenience fee.   Not alimony, not child support, not even for taking care of a dude and buying him a car like the chubby white girls on Judge Judy inconvenience fee, B.  If she does indeed hit for this lick, it sets a precedent for every instamodel with a “booking” email in their bio.  The entire fabric of dating can change.  I’m not sure if this is black excellence or white privilege  (because like an Animaniac, no one is completely sure what Mariah is…I mean she did name her child Moroccan Cannon, which an be the blackest thing ever or the most pow e rful weapon in Halo…we need to get a racial dolezal on her once and for all).  

Anyway doe, Mariah done changed the game.  It’s hard out here for a pimp, I’ve certainly blew my share of bread looking for love in all the wrong places…is it time for some reparations?  Do I need to start sending off some invoices just in time for tax season?  I mean just off the top of my head there was…

  • $95 for that girl who ordered a hole bottle of wine on our date.  This wasn’t even gainfully employed me, this was 2 retail jobs, sleeping on all couch me.  As you can see that still triggers me. 
  • $240 for those Nutcracker tickets that your ass fell asleep at….ol fake cultured ass, we could’ve netflix and chilled 
  • Kitchenaid mixer, $399.99
  • 6 months of unauthorized Netflix and Hulu use, $131.88 
  • $100 Catfish fee
  • 79.99 in custom bouquet that went largely ignored but every damn omelette you make is worth 4 snaps.
  • $32.50 for Madea Goes to Jail tickets plus an additional $20 for making me break my promise of never seeing a Tyler Perry film
  • $287.50 in missed Celtics game 
  • $XXXXX.XX in approx 26 months in back rent and other expenses
  • $150 in text and minute overages (it’s wild in hindsight they literally charged us to use cell phones by the minute)
  • Nutri ninja, 119.99 (okay it was a regular ol blender but still)
  • $500 in “borrowed” textbooks 
  • $4795 in missed college courses 
  •  $75 in flight cancellation fees
  • $375 in ordered food you barely touch, pack up, take home and never touch
  • 3 stolen fitted caps, $34.99 ea
  • $600 in retroactive Uber pay for taking your musty father to work and an $120 in car fresheners 
  • Destroyed laptop, $799
  • 4 stolen hooded sweatshirts, $39.99 ea
  • $1000 fee for making me move to Norwood 

    Love is expensive. Maybe Mimi is on to something; you invest a lot into relationships and when they don’t work…you don’t get that time, money or effort back.  I mean yeah there’s the love and shit like that but nah, I just want the paper, B.  Granted, Mariah’s common law wife entitlement after she been with dude for a year (?) tops is quite silly but I’m sure there’s some 12 years a sidepiece, ringless like Carmelo, I wasted my whole prime with you folks out here who probably need to go review their financial records.  Of course, it’s one thing to sue a billionaire for 50 million and trying to get retribution from Donte who only makes $50K a year. Maybe you can get back that iPhone. Maybe.  

    As for me, I guess I can charge most of my inconveniences to the game…I did most things out of love or very extreme thirst.  This post was largely tongue in cheek but as I think about it…I’ve blown a lot of money on women; and I’ve certainly dented a clutch or two.  Shoutout to them.  The game is the game, and even Mariah gotta accept that. So do I.  Except for the mixer. I really liked the mixer. 


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    Today’s Word is… BOSTON


    This don’t really have shit to do with the post but I died.

    It was about 10 years ago my father accepted a transfer and moved to Raleigh.  He says it’s the best things he’s ever done, I would argue that making me was, but you know, semantics.  Boston was always intended to be a pit stop for himself and his new bride.  He’s from Brooklyn, she from Indiana…the only connection to Boston was his mother and uncle and he went to high school here.  That pit stop turned into 5 more kids and 2 decades because that’s how life works.  My mother fell in love with the city, he simply adjusted. Being a black man raising a family of black kids in Boston in the 80s had to be troubling.  Fast forward to the 99 and the 2016, I’ve grown up love Boston as well, it’s all I’ve ever known.  I was in a bubble of sorts, it wasn’t until the internet that it set in how many people don’t bang with Boston like that.  It wasn’t until the move I realized my father didn’t even like it here.  Naiveté, I suppose.

    I can’t help but roll my eyes at people, who never been to Boston or live here on their own free will and complain.  Every time someone talks about the cold or “where the blacks tho” I want to throat chop them.  Put respeck on my city. Point  me to the black mecca where it’s always nice weather (shut up Atlanta y’all segregated).  Of course, Boston is far from perfect…but I mean neither is America, you just make it work.  I grew up around black people, went to school with black people, I work….well, never mind.  

    I was out with someone the other night, she’s still fairly new to the area and she casually mentioned she would move closer to home were she to have kids.  I had nothing.  Of course it was way way way too early to be having that conversation but it did cause me to stop and wonder, was Boston a dealbreaker?  Should it be?  (Especially after what happened with the last one).  Again, I felt struck with the same naiveté of assuming everyone who is here, wants to be here.  I couldn’t imagine going to grad school (.) located somewhere I have no intention of living, a pit stop can turn to life real quick, just ask my father.  Then again, if I was from like Florida or Jersey (yuck), I would probably need to get away for a few years.   She wasn’t as anti Boston was much as she was pro family, which is hard to argue against, it’s about 70% of the reason I’M here.  (I mean for the sake of arguing, technically we would both have jobs here, so why would I have to go start anew…but again, way way way too early).  It was the first time I had even considered it, if a fish falls in love with a bird, where would they live? 

    It’s something I hadn’t even had to consider before, most of the women I dated, even in college were born and raised here. When I did the distance thing, it was implied they would move here (big bank take little bank).  Maybe that was selfish of me to assume (yes, maybe) but I rather just chalk it up to just being something I hadn’t considered not that I never would.  So now, the million dollar question…is Boston a deabreaker?  If my dream job was in Los Angeles, I would be like…I mean I only see my family on holidays anyway.  Dream woman? *cue Jeopardy music* I’d like to say I would.  With qualifiers….major metropolitan cities, serious relationship, I need to make at least 25% more.  That’s fair.  But of course all of this goes out the window depending on the election in a few weeks…hi international readers.  


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    Today’s Word is… DEXIFY

    Dexify (v.) – To defend, explain, justify. 

    Used in a sentence: Technically, dexify is not a word, but I’m using it anyway and I’m not about to dexify it. 

    It really ought to be a word; it’s as prevalent to today’s culture as much as fucking “selfie”.  Social media hasn’t just made us more narcissistic, it’s made us far more defensive than ever. Facebook has become our public relations department. (Quick aside:  the other day my cousin’s girl gave a full statement about his break baby.  His statement: “I’m a dad, again”. #Inwards, man. ) In that regard, I did have some questions and appreciated the answers; but in most cases people are answering questions no one asked.   If you didn’t care what people think and you were”just saying” then why get so defensive after the fact? Notice the loudest people on social media are always the ones claiming they don’t care. The funny part is, no one is even tripping off of them…if a black person votes for Trump and no one is around to argue, does it make a sound?  It doesn’t. So they got to make as many as they can because they need you to know their position while not caring what you think about their position.  So they dexify, unsolicited, to people who aren’t attacking them.  They will not be oppressed or silenced by you, internet. 

                 Dexify Power Rankings*

    1. Black men who don’t date black women
    2. All Lives Matter
    3. Minority Trump supporters
    4. Atheists
    5. Shaun King
    6. Hoteps
    7. Millenials
    8. Street harassers
    9. “Single by choice” 
    10. Poor white people who take umbrage with “privilege”
    11. “Celebs” who search their name on twitter
    12. Career woman with broke boyfriend
    13. Blerds
    14. Female sports fans
    15. Black people with family in law enforcement
    16. 30 year olds who still talk about their college
    17. “I don’t get attached to sex” girl
    18. Black women who don’t like Beyoncé 
    19. Lightskinned men
    20. “Down” white guy
    21. 35+ year old twitter users
    22. Adults who still wear “petty” as a badge of honor
    23. Libertarians 
    24. People who saw Birth of a Nation anyway
    25. Vegans
    26. People who eat candy corn
    27. Employed childless black men who still can’t get chose
    28. HBCU grads 
    29. Hypermasculine middle aged black dude
    30. Introverts
    31. People who hate Jordans and iPhones 
    32. Christian homophobes 
    33. #PickMe Twitter
    34. Warrior fans who swear they was down before 2014
    35. Naturalistas from “big chop” to Level 3
    36. Previously problematic male feminists 
    37. Bill Cosby supporters
    38. The ex who still wants to be seen as a nice guy 
    39. “I don’t wear makeup” girl
    40. J. Cole fans

    *ranked in order of most likely to defend their existence on social media even though most people aren’t actually attacking them

    Honorable Mention: Kanye West, men under 6′, “real hip hop” fans, people waaay too into astrology, all 7 people who learned Luke Cage marries the white woman in the comic

      So why do we feel so compelled to explain and rationalize everything we do now?  It used to be taboo to discuss politics and religion, now it’s fair game.  I long for the days when I would go on Facebook and just see “fuck I’m sooo late for class” now there’s some unsourced meme about how Trump basically said what Beyoncé did, some girl talking about how the world hating on her relationship and a dude with no kids complaining about child support.  Maybe it’s rooted in some insecurity, maybe it’s delusion and people actually feel like it’s their job to change minds and hearts.  Or maybe they just seek attention because that’s what everyone seeks in the age of social media.   Most “slander” is just jokes…you’re not being oppressed, you need to cut it.  



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