Need Some Advice

Okay I am totally loving the Strawberry Letter portion of the Steve Harvey Morning Show. The things people write in with you just wonder if this is someone’s real life situation or the musings of people with very active imaginations and a bunch of time on their hands. I have always had an affinity for advice columns and often try to advise prior reading what the “expert” had to opine. And let’s be real, OPP (the last P is for problems) is a tad bit more interesting than our own. *Glances at Tiger Wood’s current mistress count-9 waffle house wannabe model waitress* Riiight? Right. So that’s why I love Strawberry letter, for the pure shock value you of them, or because Strawberry Letter comes on right with the gospel station is going to commercial and the hippity-hop stations are playing Lil Wayne…again!

Now while some of these letters speak of verbal and sexual abuse-to which Amaretto gives a brief sniffle for on her way to work; it be* the nasty spectacular dramas that give me the most comedy. So I ask you good readers of the 5 spot what you would say if you were an advice columnist to the following letters received by the Steve Harvey Morning Show…

This one I heard a day or two before Thanksgiving…

**Dear Steve,
My wife asked me what I wanted for my birthday and I told her I wanted a threesome. So it’s the night of my birthday, the lights are off, and another person is in the room. I had the best sex I have ever had. When all was said and done and the lights turned on next to laying next to my wife is her mother. Now her mother is fine. But I wonder should I tell my father in law what happened.

Amaretto Said: Illl! Hell no, don’t tell your FIL! And what kind of woman did you marry dude? Seriously?! Your wife didn’t have a homegirl or didn’t think to ask a stranger to join in the celebration?! Craziness! Steve-pretty much said the same. I don’t know if I should feel good about being in synch with Steve Harvey or not…

This one I heard yesterday…

**Dear Steve,
I have been married to my wife for 12 years and we have 6 children. I have been sleeping with my wife’s best friend for 12 years. The thing about it is that my wife’s best friend is a man. For the past year I have also been sleeping with my wife’s father. Each of these people, including my wife knows how to rock my world. I feel I am a gay man and need to confess and come out to my family.

Amaretto Said: Illl! The babies granddaddy dude! Yucky poo! Steve-Pretty called him trifling and that he should take this to the grave. He can’t even call himself gay-he’s something else-he just likes to get done. To which I agree with Steve. Again, I don’t know if should feel good about agreeing with Steve Harvey or not…

So you few fine 5 spot advice experts out there…what advice would you give to these two poor wayward men folks?

See You In Seven


*I have suspended my proper grammar for country grammar to convey how good it is!
**Also these letters have been gistified and Amarettofied!

Pass the Peas

Well I guess it's my turn for some random ramblings/musings/thoughts swirling around in my brain, cause it's been one of those weeks. Which leads me to

1. I'm tired. Like really, really tired. Not tired of this or that. But literally tired. Like what I imagine is the definition of fatigued.

2. Something really sweet and unexpected happened to me earlier this week that reminded me that...

3. While I do believe it's perfectly acceptable to show a guy interest, give him a nudge, and maybe even ask him out, it feels good to be pursued and...

4. I should stop saying I don't like meeting new people, because it doesn't totally suck and isn't nearly as bad as I make it up to be in my head, but I've realized that...

5. While I can, (but not necessarily do) talk to "anyone", just anyone can't talk to me and truly understand and enjoy the greatness that is Rum Punch. And I hate being watered down Rum Punch.

6. God is funny.

7. Sometimes what you think was. Wasn't. Not really. But you don't truly realize that until. Until you do.

8. I am on a 24 hour champagne diet, spillin' while I'm sippin', I encourage you to try it. I have been singing Money to Blow for the past week. And I don't know why I love that song so much cause Birdman's part sucks, Lil' Wayne is just a rambling fool these days and...

9. I can't stand Drake. Like at all. And yet that's a song that makes me wish I went to clubs, so I could act a fool and make it rain, I mean make it precipitate and also makes me

10. wish I had money to blow. And...

11. Some magical powers to teleport me and all my stuff from mama n'em's house to new house.

12. Earlier this week I went to the doctor and she said, "so you're 2 years from crossing the burning sands of 30 huh?" And I was like, "yeah. Thanks for the reminder." She also told me,

13. that I need to lose weight. And I was like, "yeah. Thanks for the reminder." Sometimes I feel like I'm gonna be battling this weight forever. This must be how Oprah feels. Only she has money to blow.

14. I also got a tetanus shot while at the doctor. I hate shots and made it known. And when it was all done she said, "just think you won't have to go through this pain for another 10 years. Now wouldn't it be great if that was the only painful thing that happened to you in 10 years?" Yes. It totally would. But then it wouldn't be life, I guess.

That's my time y'all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

Random Thoughts...

My job recently issued me a tracking device (aka Blackberry) so that I can be reached at all hours of the day. Initially I felt some type of way about being reachable all the time. I mean when I am off, I’m off. Sorry. I doubt the world will end…but being able to check my Yahoo mail and use Blackberry Messenger have been great highlights and time killers. So last night when I awoke from my slumber to urinate (it was like two in the morning), I noticed the little red light on Blackie flashing informing me that I had a message. Well you know I couldn’t very well fall back to sleep without knowing who had sent me something. Ugh, technology! I am a lot less patient than I use to be! No email is that important at 2am! But you could tell me that as I wiped sleep from my eyes and entered my password. Anyways with Blackberry in hand I read the following email forward and laughed until tears flowed from my eyes. So I am sharing and caring with you today because 1. I thought it was freaking hilarious 2. I have writers block like every Monday night/Tuesday morning and 3. I’m grown now and can be lazy when I see fit!

Random thoughts from people our (well, at least my) age..."

-Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong. Indeed!

-I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

-Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work?You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix theproblem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We justfigured it out. Today's kids are soft.

-There is a great need for sarcasm font.

-How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

-I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

-The only time I look forward to a red light is when I'm trying to finish a text. Who needs a red light to text?

- Was learning cursive really necessary?

-I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

- Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

- Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died. Is it bad that I agree?

-Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

-I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

- Bad decisions make good stories

-Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!

-Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go aroundand say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem....

-You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive forthe rest of the day. Like right now!

-I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail.What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste. And it's not like you can wear it again the next day!

-I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

- As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but nomatter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists. I hate when they are on the sidewalk and when they are on the road acting like a car!

-Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

-I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drivebehind obeys the speed limit.

-I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

-The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw theyhad included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at therestaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and thenestimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such alarge amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat bastard before dinner.

Now if you didn’t think any of those were funny, please keep in mind it was 2 in the morning when I read them! :)

See You In Seven

When You Assume....

Yesterday I was telling Courvoisier about an incident that happened to me while I was engaged in the wonderful world of working. A white coworker and I were chatting and during a rare occasion that I felt like giving a glimpse into Amaretto's world, I told this coworker that I attended college in Philadelphia. So then this coworker says: "Oh, so you went to Temple?"

So this is where I had a moment. Maybe it was my overly sensitive crazy chick (CeCe) raising up- but of all the schools in the Philadelphia area I wondered why oh why this coworker had assumed that I had attended the predominately Black one?

So I told him, that I in fact had attended Drexel University at which point he gave me a shocked face and said "Oh, yeah that's a good school." Thanks for your stamp of approval Mister white man. But even if it wasn't an accredited university, why did you have to assume?

I mean this is the racism that I am talking about. I have never had a cross burned in my yard, or told I couldn't use the bathroom at a certain facility. But on a daily basis I have to combat preconceived notions about Black women. And I'm sure other people/genders/races/nationalities find themselves doing the same...but since this my post and it's all about me Tuesday, I can exclaim that I am sick of this shyt!

Courvoisier felt that it wasn't a moment of racism until he had a shock face because what if Temple was the only the only school he knew of in the Philadelphia area-afterall it is well known. But I begged to differ. Because if I were a young white woman he wouldn't have said Temple. Or if I was having the same sort of conversation with any person (white, black, purple or green), in my mind I might assume they had attended Grape University (because all the purple people go to this place), but I would have asked them "So where did you go Mister Purple person?" and then given myself an internal hi-five if I had assumed correctly.

Because we as people can't help what we think in our minds, even if we live in a politically correct world our parents, media and personal experiences with folks have shaped how we view and label people. But unlike in 1959, in 2009 I think folks would have the decency to at least ask me question, before assuming that they know me...I think that's the least people can do!

See You In Seven

on submission

so recently i've become addicted to twitter. not sure how it happened although i think that rum punch's persistent nudging had something to do with it. now i've got something called twitterberry on my phone and i check that thang like every 5 minutes. one of my fav twitter's is @lilduval. dude is a true comedian. his tweets (i always chuckle at that word) have me literally laughing out loud while i'm sitting in the middle of a crowded courtroom waiting for my case to get called.

the other day he got on the subject of submission and amidst all the tweets for shits and giggles, he dropped some gems like:

people kill me talking bout i dont never wanna get married. thats a damn lie u just dont wanna marry who wanna marry u

yall better stop listening 2 neyo cuz we only want our sidechicks 2 "have her own" yo main yall have 2gether

and just cuz u got more than yo man doesnt mean u cant be submissive to him he is still the man.

every woman that thinks im trippin give yo self bout 2 more years of that single shit i bet u everything i just said pop back up in yo head.

this idea of submission is an interesting one. clearly lil duval has strong opinions about this submission thing. like many men he feels a woman should submit to a man and that a woman's ability to submit may depend on her material status and earning capacity vis a vis her man's. yet he doesn't really define what it means to submit although he implies it may have something to do with having "less than" the man or at least creating the appearance of "less than."

submission is something every woman thinks about at some point as she considers herself in a relationship with a man. this is especially true for black women and I say that only because I am a black woman and that's the only existence I know. cause ya'll know we black women are too independent, too bossy, make too much money and can't be bothered to listen to no man tell us what to do. or so i've been told.

but dear readers at the 5 spot, what do ya'll think. what does it mean for a woman to submit to her man/husband? should women be submitting to her man/husband?

what say ya'll?

Musings Of A Thick Chick (Trying to Lose Weight)

Hello World! Yeah, so it’s going on five months since I wrote this. And since then I’ve been trying to lose weight or at least become healthier by consistently working out and eating right. And um here are some things I’ve learned along the way:

• Squats are evil. I mean seriously evil. And in boot camp we do something called The Matrix: 24 squats, 24 lunges, 24 jump lunges and 24 jump squats. My legs and thighs will be on fiyah! And not for good reasons! There was no pleasure involved. No pushing my legs, back, forward, sideways all in the name of a good grinding session so that when I'm like, "Damn my legs hurt," I can at least smile about the reason...


• I hate to run. I mean that trot, trot, trot, run. But let me tell y’all what I can do apparently, sprint. Man, we had a relay race in boot camp the other day and I took off like Flo Jo! And with my long and silky weave flying in the wind, I was looking just like her! All I needed was some long, acrylic nails! Hmmm and maybe a one legged pants/shorts outfit... Now the boot camp trainers are talking about how I’ve been holding back all this time and now they see what they can do. I’m ascared. Especially since they were saying something about how I should do some sprint training. I looked at them like, what the hell? Something about sprinting 200 yards and then walking 200 yards. I don’t know, I saw their mouths moving but after they said, “you just go to the track” it’s really all a blur after that… And speaking of boot camp…


• Why is there always one skinny, athletic, fit chick in boot camp? Does this heffa not know that boot camp is for fat or slightly chunky out of shape people who have to take drastic measures, like waking up at the freakin’ crack of dawn to lose weight? No, this skinny chick is there to change up her workout routine. I swear y’all there is this one girl, she’s Russian or Bosnian or Serbian, one of those ians (yes, I know that was oh so politically incorrect), she’s like an Olympic trained athlete. Ok, not the Olympics, but Olympics lite. Like a junior body builder or something. This chick was practically doing one handed push-ups. Everyone was looking at her like, really Natasha? Really? I think some woman just stopped her push-ups all together and laid down on her mat. Like, why bother? I suppose she could serve as an inspiration. But from where I’m squatting, she's just pissing me off.


• Why can’t I lose weight as fast as I put it on? I mean it didn’t take nothing to put it on, just an extra 1 or 2 rolls here, a late night after work Jr. Bacon cheeseburger, some wings and fries, a few steak tacos, some vodka and cranberries to wash it all down.


• Jesus be a carbohydrate. A bad starch. A white sugar, flour enriched product. A buttery roll. A bowl of pasta. A loaded baked potato. Some homemade mac and cheese. An ice cold Pepsi.



• If loving these is wrong then I don't wanna be right! It’s probably bad to be eating something called fat boy, right? I mean it kinda says it all doesn’t it? Every bite I take, the sandwich is like, “Hey there! I don't wanna be a lonely fat boy. I need a fat girl to keep me company. Here pretty fat, girl..." I know that eating one just cancels out my hard morning workout, but they’re sooo good y’all!


• Getting discipline is a mothafucka.


• Why is the tummy the last thing to go? Why is everything else sliming down? Hips. Thighs. Arms. Face. But that tummy is like, "I ain't goin' nowhere..." Jiggle, jiggle...


• I have realized that losing weight is like growing out a bad haircut. Meaning it’s a process. And as you lose weight, you’re gonna start to feel worse because when you look in the mirror, you ask yourself, “Am I still big? Shit! How big was I before I lost that 10 pounds?” Or is that just me...


• Dance classes are fun though!


• I sho’ll do appreciate Black men loving me either way, through thick or thin. LOL! No, seriously I like when I tell y’all I’m trying to lose weight, y’all raise your eyebrows and be like, “oh you don’ t need to lose weight girl…” Yes! But no. I do. For me. For my health. For my love of certain clothes and fashion (that I wouldn't dare wear right now). It's all about blazers and things that float away from the body right now.

So basically, these five months have been joy and pain. Pump it up, pump it up. Sunshine and rain.* Keep it going, keep it going...

That's my time y'all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

*Literally. We were doing boot camp in the rain yesterday. Sigh.

stop in the name of celibacy

A while back Rum Punch blogged about celibacy by happenstance and celibacy by choice. At the time, I wasn't sure which one I was going through but since then I've been working to convert happenstance to choice for my own "get yo self togetha gurl and yo man will come" reasons. ummmm yeah that was a lie. More like I am celibate just because I want some quality time alone with my tanky (as my mama calls it) and haven't found anyone with whom I'd like to share.

But my celibacy by choice has been my own personal decision, one which I have not divulged with others, except my Ace and Duece Boon Coons. Because usually with this type of goal you don't really want to shout it from the rooftops, "I'm celibate, hear me roar!" Kinda in the same way that you don't go telling everybody that you're on a diet. Cause as soon as some hater or even a well-meaning family member asks you how much you've lost this week when they see you stuffing a piece of star.bucks lemon loaf into your mouth, you start to feel all guilty and stuff. Or you just keep eating that star.buck's lemon loaf like whatevs, at least i'm not as fat as...

Such is the way of things with celibacy. If you slip up and backslide into the land of gettin it in (i love that phrase for absolutely no reason) and somebody finds out about it (like that hater ass girlfriend of yours) you feel all guilty and slutty or all disappointed in your inability to commit to no relations. So I've kept it to myself (well until 1.4 minutes ago when ya'll started reading this), working through my daily struggle to stay on the sex free path with dedication and meditation. I can't speak for men but as a woman, staying celibate is pretty easy for me and should be for most women. Granted we get approached by men at least twice daily and if we wanted to partake of certain activities, we could easily find a willing male participant. But you just have to remove all temptations from your life. Stop taking calls from your old stand-by call in case of emergency brotha and take lots of showers under that really really forceful showerhead. Get involved in civic activities and do things to occupy your mind and you're straight.

Until...

You get presented with some goodies you always wanted! Or maybe I'm the only one with a list of men who I find *uckable and would seriously consider if given the chance? Last week, I just happened to be presented with the possibility of the chance at maybe getting a little closer to a "platonic" friend of mine. I've known this friend for a minute and I've always found him sexy, especially his body, his muscles, his...., yeah but we've been just friends. And for most of the time that I've known him, he's had a girl or I had a guy. ...

I won't go into the details here (a girl should have some secrets) but let's just say there was alcohol involved, words spoken, lusty looks given and I pretty much walked away from the possibility when I realized where things might be headed. And it wasn't because I didn't want to ruin the friendship, cause I feel like friends can make the best lovers. I think it's especially crazy when women hold back from pursuing something with a good male friend because they don't want to ruin the friendship. wtf? So you'd rather be alone or out here dating these fools who aint bout nothing when you have a perfectly good male friend who knows you and likes you and wants to see if ya'll can build a relationship. And I didn't walk away because of my celibacy commitment, at least not at the moment when I called a cab to take me home. At that moment, it was more because my head was spinning and I was pretty sure that if I stayed things might get ugly, in a head-over-toilet-bowl way.

In retrospect I'm alternatively kicking myself for passing up the chance and thanking God that I didn't go through with it. With a clearer head, I remember the months I've put into this celibacy thing and I've been wondering would it worth it to wash away all that time built up. But since I'm mint julep, I've also been imagining what it would be like and how much I'd really really really like to! And I mean really, have you seen this guy, hot sex on a platter ya'll!...

For sure, that moment when I almost stepped over the line from friends to friends who have kissed, touched, etc. has passed and who knows if it can be recreated. I want to but do I, should I?

Two Snaps and a Neck Roll

So one day I was online looking for some more checks. Crazy right, I mean who uses checks anymore? Well, apparently I do. And since my bank, I won't say which one but let's just say it's in America, charges freakin, $22 for a box of checks, I was scouring online for some 99 cent checks. Shit. They coulda been $21 checks. But I was not giving that bank any more of my money. So as I'm browsing for the cheapest deal, I come across a set of checks called, wait for it, sista, no I'm sorry, sistas (please say it like you are a former Black Panther, down for the cause, now doing slam poetry, how you doing my sistaaaa, type voice) checks. What are sistas checks, you ask? Take a look...

And for the whole collection...

Now, I'm not one to trample on creativity. But um what the hell? Who thought this was a good idea? And who is really buying these checks? Is it not "bad" enough that people make assumptions (often correct, may I add) about our race because of our names or the inflection of our voice, now you just wanna let someone know you Black? It's like its own personal warning: please cash this check right now, if you know what's good for you. Ahhh that's wrong. And so is this.

Only because when I first told Amaretto about these checks, and I said, "the black women are doing these little poses..." And she said, "is it the hand on the hip, head cocked to one side pose? I know that pose!" And we all know that pose. But to boil that down, and then have it put on a check and then call it a sistas check is ridiculous. And too easy. And dare I say stereotypical. I mean apparently to be a sista, I either need to have a fly hat & outfit, a short little afro or a headwrap. And some a-tti-tude! Do you think I'm wrong? Here is a description that I found online (after I wrote the above sentence!): From head to toe, these phenomenal women exude confidence, style and sophistication in every way. This check has "Attitude"! Celebrate your African American heritage proudly!

Again I say, what the hell? Now I'm not going to lead my own personal boycott against sistas checks. But I do think that it's walking that fine line, of "celebrating" who we are vs. using "typical" images of Black women as a marketing technique and for profit. But maybe I'm being too sensitive. I should be proud of who I am! And race doesn't matter!* So, let me go get my headwrap out the dryer, iron my fly outfit and work out my arm for some hand hip holding and posing! Cause I'm a phenomenal woman, phenomenally, phenomenal woman, that's me!

That's my time y'all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

*Hey, wait a minute, we haven't heard that chant in awhile... I wonder why...

in my mind

There’s this game I like to play with myself when I first meet a man. I ask myself, Is he *uckable or un-*uckable (with an f)?

Did you think I was gonna say is he marriage material? Yeah ummm no, this is just how me and my perverted, secretly freaky-deaky mind works. It's good to get a lil silly on our View every now and then.

And I know I’m not the only one, am I ladies? *waits for comments from my female readers*

You know, you do the not-so-obvious-but-oh-so-necessary vertical check of the man’s anatomy. Shoulders, chest, pants, shoes! Wipe me down! (c) lil boosie. Generally, a guy gets on my un-*uckable list for one of the following:

1. A belly that’s bigger than mine. This one really needs no explanation. Tubsters need not apply.

2. Unbecoming body odor (or a general aura of uncleanliness). Just like men like sweet smelling women, I like a good-smelling man who looks like he’s seen the inside of a shower/tub within the last 24 hours.

3. Under 5-10 and a half. I’m exactly 5-10 and a half and I need a man that is at least my height in order for me to feel like a grown-up. I like short men…as friends. Yeah it sucks, I know.

Once I’ve done my evaluation, then it’s back to booghetto professional mode. Hi! how are you, my name is mint julep? Blah blah.

The problem with this little game is that the man remains clueless about the impossibility of anything going down. The way I’ve mentally killed his getting-it-in prospects before he’s even had a chance to try out his A-game.

But I’ve been thinking that maybe I oughta do away with this highly unscientific, totally frivolous and what some might call prejudicial little game/test.

Or not.

What do you think? Ladies, are there any physical attributes that would put a guy on your un-*uckable list (if you had one ;-)?

Much Ado About Nothing

I have a bunch of random shit on my mind today.

- Are you paying attention to the endless stories about black women being stalked and killed by former or current boyfriends/lovers/husbands? These nuccas are crazy! We (black women) better WAKE UP and take notice. Be aware. Be safe. Be careful. And most of all- pay attention to the signs. Mothersuckas don't turn psycho overnight. When your instinct tells you to run, get the hell outta dodge.

- Pedestrian safety is completely ignored by most motorists. Crossing the street is becoming a game of russian roulette. I'm going to start crossing the street in a shirt that says "Smile. You're on Youtube." That should keep me from becoming roadkill.

- What happened to the terror alert system? It's been yellow since September '07. Not that I ever cared about or payed attention to the whack system... But we used to get regular updates on the news.

- With all the constant talk about the race to the White House, I am wondering how much fuss do you make about your local elections (i.e. Governor, Senator, Congressional Rep., Council & Board members)? We [voters] have a greater impact on our local elections than national. What's your district number? Precinct?

- I do not have IM or Yahoo Messenger or anybody else's messenger service. Call me, text me, email me, fax me, or send a postcard. If none of the above works, then just cross me off your contact list. Please. Enough is enough already.

- Ever seen a black family on Super Nanny? 'Nuff said.

- I am an avid coupon clipper. I never see coupons for condoms. Never. Seen plenty for KY Jelly. I'm just saying...

- Why are folks still not recycling? You bag up your recyclable items just like the regular trash and sit it on the curb or at the dumpster just like regular trash. There are no extra steps. What's so hard about it? I guess laziness truly is self-destructive.

- Did you ever notice that Afghanistan's flag and the Black Liberation flag have the same colors?

Afghan Flag

Black Liberation Flag


Interesting. The Afghan people are most certainly Revolutionary But Gangsta. Lol.

- I think I'm the only person I know who doesn't have cable. Doesn't bother me at all... TV will f**k up your mind, fo' real. The day Comcast stops dictacting what channels I pay for is the day I renew my subscription. I do miss ESPN and TV One.

- Due to my boycotting the devil, I mean Comcast, I've been renting The Wire DVDs from the video store. That is one damn good show! I know I'm late but better late than never, right?

Congratulations to the ladies of The View From Here for surpassing 5000 hits!

I am proud to be a part of this wonderful collaboration.

I am truly grateful for your infinite intellect, wisdom, humor, and love.

Here's a toast to

Amaretto

Bellini

Mint Julep

Rum Punch

Tumultuously Yours,

Dark & Stormy

Introducing a Possible...Courvoisier

Courvoisier: Straight from the islands, I am a married lady living in the United States. I strive for knowledge, innovation and perfection in this world; though I’m keenly aware no one is perfect…not even me. I enjoy the simple and exquisite things in life. I believe every life has a purpose and I am eager to fulfill mine.


Besides being the best birth month ever, January is always the month of new beginnings. It is also the month that we celebrate a great man, Martin Luther King Jr. It seems like we celebrate it the same way every year…take that day off (if your company gets down like that) donate some of our personal items and use this time to remember one of our greatest leaders.

This year I stumbled on an article written years ago “The Martin Luther King You Don’t See on TV”, which compelled me to look into the subject some more. This article discusses the years of MLK’s life from 1965-68. There are so many points made in this article I could probably post for days.

I am simply going to touch on one point… "The Poor People's Campaign” created by the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) in 1965-66. It was a campaign designed to address the urban riots at the time and focused on black employment, housing and education opportunities. It is said that MLK believed that economic inequality was the reason that many of us African Americans were suffering. Essentially what he was proposing was a more democratic socialized society instead of one rooted in capitalism.

Was this somewhat communist ideal entertained? What happened to this glorious plan that few people know about? Well, MLK was assassinated April 4 1968 and Rev. Ralph Abernathy took leadership of the SCLC. On May 12, 1968 he led the campaign’s effort to lobby the Economic Bill of Rights which was intended to decrease the poverty levels of all races. The campaign was not considered as successful as the movement had dreamed...

So now that we know even MLK acknowledged that it is more than a black/white issue but economic inequality, what's next people? How do we strengthen our economic power in this capitalistic society to which we have been integrated?

There are so many ways and I plan to work on strengthening our community by supporting more black owned businesses in ’08. All I ask is that we step up to the plate, open up our wallets and support our community.

Courvoisier

P.S. Happy B-day MLK!