LoveYa, Mike.

My Beloved Michael Jackson... Genius and Tourtured Soul (and Body x_x) may generations to come continue to love and appreciate Your Music, Your Talent, and Your GroundBreaking Dancing Abilities. May haters look beyond Your (very public) Personal Life and show respect to Your Role in Defining the nation. May Your True Fans not allow Your Musical Legacy to be overshadowed by bullshit. Respect the Music&Talent...

haters fail to look at MJ's entire situation... Viciously driving this... Other Worldly Genius insane :(Crazy People know that they (haters) Drove Mike insane. Imagine A Man who's been Performing for Most Of His Life... Working Constantly...Being Sheltered...industry pressure; with a Genius as Grand as His Was/Is: He Was Bound To Go CRAZY!!!! )

So Mike went Crazy, and so did the media...making the shit worse. And yada yada yada (We All know the stories from the past twenty years), until He's basically a joke (to haters) but He still has that Talent and Genius Rushing Through His Brain... And can't help it!! He continues to Make Music...
We continue to Recognize the Genius and then...
x_x.

So may Your Soul Wander through Galaxies with added Ease knowing that Your Life on Earth made an Undeniable Impact on the WORLD!!

xoxo,

An Appreciative Fan,
ZAG.
aka
The Girl Who Looves Michael Jackson (my supervisor...lol)

(And for my readers...sorry about the absence of my Rainbow Color Scheme but I'm blogging off of my BB.. I'll edit later today. xoxo, peace!)

(PS- Sorry it took so long to edit!! Thanks readers, I appreciate you!)

BmoreProud.

I haven't posted anything in a good minute, and if you're really reading me.. I apologize for that. I can't read everything I follow (I still can't get with this whole Internet Thing... I know, I'm only 26, but I'm kind of like.. what the fuck for?!!) so maybe when you see a new post by me floating in your "people I'm following" realm then you'll be more inclined to read it.

So I went to Baltimore Pride on Saturday, and it was explosive! Dykes, lesbos, queers, fags, homos, queens, doms, fems, tops, bottoms.... I mean, any name you call out was there! LOL I had a blast, I don't know, it just seems that I'm more at home with my queer folk. Somehow, they don't seem as judgemental as straight arrows. I can be myself and not have to worry about what's wrong with the world, because according to many, they're what's wrong with the world. And when who you are is looked upon as dirty, or wrong.. you tend to be as wacked out as I am so to speak. That's a compliment. I wear my crazy well. Anywho, there was good food, good music, friends, rainbows, tu-tus and a whole heap of drinkin', and the boys thought my boobs were fabulous (which is a hell of a compliment because these bitches invented fierce, I love it!!). Who could ask for a better Saturday:

LubePride.


FoodPride.


DudePride.



BoobPride.


Then Sunday, Farjer's Day... I gave my honey a well thought out gift, and he loved it.. YAAY! Thanks for being an awesome Dad babe. I love Yoou!! We went to The Afrikan Village study group where I met and connected with the awesome Sister Ujima, had some wonderful discussions and good food AGAIN.. really? Two days in a row is too much, does that really happen? Anyhown, Sunday was great and I enjoyed my family and we had a blast learning new shit and appreciating being Black in general. Go figure I don't have any pictures of that.

Until next time muthafuckas!! xoxo

Life AfterAnalog.

I missed the beheading of Analog TV. I could have sworn that the shit was supposed to happen at 11:59 PM... for some reason, I was absolutely certain!! I was all ready to blog about the shit and make fun of it. Alas, I was at work and missed the whole shebang. So, whatever. Our household has been televisionless for FOUR WHOLE DAYS, and we're still alive and kicking. I think it will be alright. Maybe now I can finish the blanket I started crocheting back in like... fuckin' March. I want that blanket on my bed by Autumn. It shall be done.

Anyway, my mohawk sporting cousin BeeBee* stood me up (which I kinda expected...) this weekend. I mean, she sent a text and all saying maybe next time but still.. What the fuck??! Luckily I made other plans due to anticipation of her flaking on me
(BooOOOooo!!), and I had a great time with my other cousin Zacc. Yea, her mom named her after me, so she was destined for cool from the beginning. We saw The Taking of Pelham 123... and when it comes to Denzel, I'm like a middle aged freak. Gimmie Dat, Denzel!!

Me and my MiniMe decided to make a weekend of the shit and hung out on Sunday, too. This time with her crew, who I've adopted as my own:


And I must say these bitches rock. Oh, and how small is Baltimore? Found out that Zacc's good friend Tay is also my Huzbin's little sister (by marriage). But anyways, we had a blast down at Fells Point, and it was simply beautiful:




I was feeling extra cute that day so I took some self portraits... hell, a little bit of conceit never hurt nobody, ya dig?:




Well, that's all for now. Today was pretty much pleasant, besides these bullshit thoughts I have. I stress myself waaaaaaay too much. And I think too much. Sometimes I long for stupidity but.. it just won't happen.

*names have been changed (slightly) to protect the.... "innocent."

I Direct TurtlePorn.

It's like 2 a.m. and I really should be asleep; I have to work in the morning (booooooOO!!) . Instead, I'm up on blogger. Blogging. I've been staying up late nights recently though, so.. I don't know what that's all about. Maybe I'm nervous about not having any digital service, when Analog TV's inevitable demise is swiftly approaching. I wonder what the Analog stations last words will be. I plan on watching the death of Analog... kinduvuh morbid way of putting it but.. shit that's how they've been acting.

Anyways, something much better than TV is going to the zoo with your kids:

It was hot as hell, but the ManChild and I had a great time. It was like a regular fuckin' safari. We had lunch in the sweltering, humidity and then went hiking around the Washington Zoo. Of course I had a big ass backpack filled with non-sense because... well... I like to be prepared. There was temporary refuge in the various animal "houses" and lo' and behold.. what do we run into? Turtles fuckin'. That's right, and I took pictures:

That turtle was getting it IN... and once I figure out YouTube... or whatever (I'm such a freaking old lady when it comes to new shit.), I'm gonna upload. You can see him grinding on her, and yeah I'm an adult... but that shit was hilarious. The ManChild's interpretation of the deed was, "Hey look, Ma... that baby turtle is trying to get on his mother's back!" Thank White Jesus for innocence. I wasn't trying to explain sex to a 7 year old in the reptile house at the Washington Zoo.

There are a lot of pictures, but shit... it's quarter after 2 in the morning, and I'm just learning how to do this shit, forreal.

Sidebar:: I'm supposed to be meeting with my cousin and her wife this weekend. I hardly ever get to see her, so I'm hoping this will be some kind of event. She's an artist, and she has a mohawk. I'm trying to drum up the nerve to cut one for myself but... I have this obsession with long hair. So... the mohawk may have to wait.

NewShit. Really.

Soooo... I've been thinking... and I'm gonna really learn how to use Blogger, and like.. make my shit cute, ya know? I love writing and this seems like a really cool... soapbox of sorts. A here ye, hear ye type of thing. There are so many different sides to who I am, and I want this internet expression of myself to represent who I really am in all my crazy, weird, funny, pretty, creative, narcissistic, intelligent, sad, contemplative, happy to be Black, music obsessed, fashion obsessed, paraniod, yada yada yada.. glory. And I'm pretty good with feeling my way around codes and what not. I've been bloging off of my BlackBerry, so I never really got the chance to do it up, and like... learn how to put up a damn link for starters (I just got my laptop after not owning one for like 2 years o_O..boooo)!! I have so much to talk about, yo.. and I'm ready to share it with thee world! *Toss hat up Mary Tyler Moore style.*
I'm gonna teach myself how to make my blog great. I'm gonna talk about how cool... and how sad it is to live in Baltimore. Some wild shit happens here. But a lot of cool shit happens here too. Like the Human Rights March I went to about a month ago:

This guy was there skateboarding on fuckin' crutches. I think that's awesome! And there was a live band complete with an accordion:


That's my first time trying to like... embed photos or whatever. I hope it comes out right, lol. Anyways if you're reading this blog, and I mean really reading, then expect some changes in the very near future.

It's Not SpokenWord.

It’s not spoken word, and I take offense
when my work is referred to as: poetry
See, because My words...are my life.
Black ink on white paper rhythmically
transferred from word to thought
flipping in your mind like a fish caught
slipping swimming too close to the shore
my words are like water to you, fish...
so please, feel free to fill your gills with more

It’s not spoken word...it’s a metaphrase of
My existence that I’m willing to share with
Anyone who’ll listen...take in these verbal vitamins
Digest them, let them seep into your blood stream;
I guarantee my art will arterialize and make its way
To the principal parts of...you
My tangible thoughts promote healthy living;
The gift that keeps on giving...my eternity in ink
From me to you

It’s not spoken word...it’s a portion of my
blueprint, a part of me that makes me... me
and I feel that if I give you part of my soul
the least you can do is keep it label-free
untainted, unadulterated, fresh squeezed, concentrated
Brain Juice splattered on paper...
transferred from written, to spoken...to heard
these words are my life, and I beg you
when they make their home in your mind,
please...treat them right

NiggaPleez.

Bootlips
Sheboon
Africoon
Buck
Monkey
Niglet
Spook
Shitskin
"Coonfestation"
"Coontact"
Jigaboo Gangsta

These are just a few of the names Black People are called, by non-Blacks "behind our backs." I found a website that describes the awful en-COON-ters they (non-Blacks) have had with unsuspecktn bug-ahhd shitskins. Yet... We aren't supposed to say Nigga/er. Because its a step back. Okay, nigga. I mean shitskin. I mean africoon. In the words of the late great Tupac...I'd rather be a NIGGA. But that's just me..
Oh, and if you didn't know...they also use "ghetto", "gangstA" and "urban" in place of nigger. Does it really make sense to focus on the use of one little ole word when there are countless others out there which are just as bad, if not worse? Shitskin? Really? Does it make sense to spend money funding a funeral and burial for "nigga/er"... When our children are suffering in low-income housing, fucked up schools, and living within a million other problems? When muhfuckas can still get away with the watered down version of nigger.. "The N-Word." I guess that makes calling me a poopskin to my face as opposed to a shitskin okay.
Nigga...get your mind right and think of a better, more productive way to spend your time and energy...rather than tell me that calling my brothaman/sistaguhl nigga is a step back. Boooooo!

Booze, Bucks, BabyOil &BoyFlipping, Oh My.

I had a blast at my good friend Travis' birthday party at the Hilton. It was the most fun I had in a very VERY long time. I hadn't seen him in years, but I was determined to get out and celebrate his 27th with him. The drinks were flowing, the company was good... and the big Black buff hall monitor (in his suit, crisp white shirt and bowtie) told us that there were, "several complaints sent downstairs" from neighboring rooms about the noise level, lol. So.. there isn't much to say about it; I'll just leave you with a few of the less incriminating photos. Happy Birthday babe, Love ya lots!!

Who Else Would Want To Deal With You?!

"Who else would want to deal with you?" - A little gem that was shouted at me in the middle of a lover's spat. After saying, "Nigga fuck you..." then giving the whole idea some thought, I can't imagine that anyone else would want to deal with the real me, day in and day out. Most people, for one, are too stupid for me to even consider dealing with on any intimate level... and that's why my friends are so few as it is. Excluding family, I have 3 friends. Yep, I'm 26 years old and have 3 friends. Which is fine by me. Although there are a few people I'd like to meet and be friends with, as of now I have only san amigos. In no particular order:

Monsieur Burghardt - The Abrasively Brilliant One. I love this nigga like I've never loved another. I've known this cat for about half of my life and boy, have we been through it over these... what about 13-14 years now? I stopped counting the years because years don't mean anything to infinity, if you know what I mean. But for the sake of referencing a time frame, let’s go with that number. We met through a mutual mutant... that's another post for another day but I digress... and I told said mutant that I really liked Mr. B. What did this cunt go and do? Put the moves on my man. Bitches ain't shit. Anyway, for quite a few years, I had to swallow the jagged little pill of bitterness as they related, dated and fucked and whatnot. Being the loyal friend and down ass bitch that I am, I never mentioned anything more about it, and I'll be real with you... my insecurities and shit helped hold my tongue. But OHHH that truth serum fire got me going one night we were all hanging out and in a drunken stupor I professed my love for this man... that was it. There was no turning back at that point and I fought until he was MINES!! LOL... but seriously, he is as twisted as I am... yet thoughtful, intelligent, handsome, witty..hell, hilarious!! And that voice continues to do things to me... ok, ok... let me stop I don't want any of you bitches to get any ideas. I fought too long and too hard for this diamond in the rough. But he's like, one of my best friends on the planet, and I love him to bits and pieces!!

Betty B. - My would be wife if I were a lesbian, or a man. I love this chick!! She is what a real homegirl should be. I thought I had a friend in the mutant (see above) but only came to realize that she was a cancerous, cantankerous, evil bitch. Wow, I'll have to do her the honor of blogging about her one day. But back to my Betty. Oh, by the way, I call her Betty (as in Boop) because of her bangin' ass hour glass figure... and her milkshake be bringing all the b's buzzing... Betty is like, my personality twin, if there is such a thing. I'm probably a bit more crass than she is... but she is the yin to my yang. She loves HARD and unconditionally, the kind of female a nigga should want on his team. We both have problems but we help each other work them out. I don't judge her bullshit, and she doesn't judge mine. I've been friends with Betts now I would say, a good seven years. Started out as coworkers, and ended up best buds, like... if she needed a place to crash, my door is open. Of course we've had our little spats or what have you (which are few and far between by the way), but what friendship doesn't? We've always bounced back and had...and continue to have each other's back. Love ya Betty B.!!!

J. - My weird, technology geek buddy. I am able to be as crass as I need to be with J. He always lends an ear when I need to talk about how stupid certain co-workers are... basically J rocks. When I first met J, I was like.... wow, what thee fuck. Big Black dude who.. kinda doesn't embrace his Blackness. But it's all good when you get to know him. We became friends after passing by each other for like 3 years without speaking, over the Classifieds in the City Paper. I was reading the hilarious ones to a co-worker he was already friends with, and lo' and behold, he too read and made jokes about the I Want You to Poke Me With Plastic Forks While I Suck Your Toes If You're Out There Please Call ads. Ever since then we've been tight like glue! Movies, anime, Star Trek, music, gore, electronics, and pictures of hot chicks... J is sooo my guy. He's a kind hearted gentleman with an I'll Kick Your Ass exterior. That's my nigga and we'll always hang tough!!

So, those are my friends, and I care about all three of them because basically, they all kick ass. I am able to be as loud, crass, ignorant, political, intellectual, opinionated, creative and silly with them as I want and need to be. Most people can't deal with my madness... and they do voluntarily. Oh, and they don't mind that I curse like a sailor and say nigga like... every chance I get.. No tip toeing around these dudes, at all. Everybody should get at least one of themses.

Peace and MuthaFuckin Love My Niggas!!!

Two of Four.

Formerly The Notorious Z.A.G., I was assimilated by the Borg: Brain Override Regarding Good (good sense, good judgment, good ideas, you name it). It was then I became Two of Four (all my Star Trek fans should get it). I have since regained my consciousness, and am now migrating slowly back into the human race, but let me tell you how and why I am now Two of Four.
At the tender age of 18... I was green, naive, silly... stupid. I wasn't missing any of my intelligence, it was just that my Brain Overrode anything Regarding Good. BORG. I fell in love with an idiot, because he showed me some attention. Lied to me about being hurt in relationships and blah blah blah, yackity smackity. I fell for it because I didn't know any better. I wanted to be that SOMETHING for someone, and that someone just happened to be the first yutz to come along. Well, he had an older woman - who I believe was about 35 then - pregnant (he was 20 or 21 at the time) who he insisted was not pregnant by him. I didn't care though, I sat there being a stupid little girl satisfying his every whim. Ran up my credit card bill... ran up my cell phone bill to $700 talking to females on chat lines. A complete and utter sizzling hot mess. I mean, even this dude's family was questioning why I was with this loser...and that's a direct quote. I couldn't see it at the time, a nigga had stars all in her eyes... thanks to the BORG.
To make a long story short, sooner than later I was pregnant. Did he want the baby? No. Did I care? Nope. Did I think that a baby would solidify the relationship and keep him there with me forever? I most certainly did, and boy was I wrong. We were together for about 7 or 8 months after I had the baby, and the relationship ended with me destroying all the electronics and gifts I received during the course of the relationship (almost 3 years) because he tried to take them back, over something so dumb that I can't even remember. I took all of that shit and tossed it in the street, watching gadgets and parts explode into pieces on impact. Shit, if I couldn't have it, he definitely couldn't, especially since I couldn't get back all the time and money I had so blindly put into the "relationship."
Well, my son is now seven years old, and hasn't seen his dick of a dad in about five years. Which I'm not okay with, but I can't force a man to be a man. That's not my job. My job is to raise my son the best way that I can. But that's all beside the point. Lately this infidel has decided to crash back on the scene via text message. Oh, technology can be a bitch; and get this: the first thing this fool is talking about is how he misses me and still loves me and wants to see me and been thinking about me and some ole other bullshit. NOTHING whatsoever about how his son is doing. Which I find both sad and hilarious. How the fuck are you gonna text me talking about you love me and miss me, but mention nada about the baby we made 8 years ago? Not to mention this dude has a girlfriend.... that I looked up on MySpace because I'm just like that. Don't know why but I like to know how a mother fucker looks... ya know? So anywho, I talk to him and find out that some other female is claiming that he fathered her child, and he doesn't believe it's his because the "Baby is lighter than [me] and has good hair. Man, that baby don't look nothing like [he does]." Now, being a fan of Maury... I'm well aware that a baby doesn't have to look like you to be yours. I explain that via text, but this dumbass doesn't get the point. He continues to tell me that he still loves me and is thinking about me... yeah okay, whatever dude.
Skip forward to today, I text him to find out whether or not my son has yet another brother that he'll never know because his father is a dick. Turns out, you ARE THE FATHER!! Some ole Maury type shit, lol. Again with the sad hilarity of the situation. So, being me, I decide to check out girlfriend's MySpace page again (I hadn't been on there in a while) and homegirl's status says: Preparing for the baby, getting ready for our trip in july and getting a promotion at work. Doing big things." Of course curiosity gets the best of me and I ask him, what baby are they preparing for? Turns out THIS chick is pregnant now. If you haven't been keeping count, she is baby mama number FOUR. Which makes me Two of Four. The BORG is taking over. So beware.
Why are niggas still fucking bitches without rubbers?? I mean... is poon really THAT good? To either a.) die for, b.) ruin a life or two.. or three or four for? Stupid.. I swear I wish I had been allergic to stupid years ago. Don't get me wrong, I love my son infinitely, he's a star!!

But good gottdamn... to fuck an idiot

BathroomBreak.

Red nail polish
worn and chipped
on fingertips
that graze
bruised lips
heart and mind
slips
into the darkest abyss
a soul could ever know
Eyes search their
reflection and
attempt the
detection
of the woman
who once stood
taller than anyone
she ever knew
the truth came to
a screeching halt
at the safe side of
her bruises
the cool quiet
sanctuary was
useful only until
he decided she'd
had enough
alone time
the crime she
committed slipped
her mind
but he'd only find
another reason
to do what
he does best:
punish her flesh...

Life Goes On

Friend's blood and brains splattered on pavement
Phone calls from collections expecting payment
Nursing home& inevitable interment arrangement
But life goes on...
Beat up, hair pulled and choked out
Procrastination, depression and self doubt
Bury face in pillow and then shout
But life goes on...
Yellow slip out front my shit is past due
Pockets thin but all my clothes is brand new
How to save, admit that I have no clue
But life goes on...
Carry weight that no one seems to understand
Press on for my Son and my favorite Man
Crumble under the weight of all these demands
But life goes on...

Flying Colors...

I got my report card today and it reads as follows:

HEPATITIS B: negative
HEPATITIS C: negative
GONORRHEA: negative
CHLAMYDIA: negative
SYPHILIS: negative
HIV: Negative
PAP SMEAR: normal

I passed all my tests with flying colors. Might I suggest YOU ALL get tested. Better safe than sorry; no sex is worth dying for!! GET TESTED!! Not just HIV/AIDS; get tested for everything. If you're sexually active, your life depends on it!!!!!

DuckDuck...Goose.

You know what really gets my goose? When my blog comments aren't approved on moderated blogs. I go back expecting to read my treasured and valuable opinion...only to have my thought demolished by the bloggod controlling whether or not my words will be seen by the world. My idea is then, gone forever with the simple, pompous click of a mouse *poof*. Am I really THAT opinionated that bloggods feel the need to dismiss my shit as brash and abrasive and not worthy for eyes other than their own? I'ownkno but that shit really gets my goose.
Say what you want on my blogspot; frankly I don't give a fuck and don't think I am worthy enough to say I disapprove of any of my readers' comments.
XOXO

Spring Fever, Maybe?

Well, I'm sitting in my GYN's office, and I see lots of round bellies sitting around when suddenly I have this overwhelming urge to HAVE a BABY..I have a 7yr. old whom I love dearly (who, by the way keeps asking me, "Hey Ma, when are you gonna have another baby??!" To which I usually respond, "Boy, get outta here!"), but its been a really long time and I find myself mystified with the idea of feeling my bestfriend's/love's baby squirming around in my womb. Watching it grow, rubbing my tumtum and getting all of that special "PregnantLady" attention. And I wonder what (s)he will look like, I mean, we're a badass couple! Chubby, bubbly little brown babies are like, the best thing ever; with the drool and the new baby smell...mmmm!! And to have my BabysBaby??! THAT would be the bomb, no doubt. Could this be old fashioned Spring Fever that animals get when its time to mate and procreate?
Buuut... I'm broke as fuck and enjoy spoiling my OneandOnly (One, for short)...not to mention I'm lazy as shit and I have a lot on my plate as of late sooo:
Maybe this baby done made some other plans (Stevie Wonder fans, Stand Up!!)...
Maybe 2010 (Honey, are you reading?! LOL)...

The K'Naan Show Chronicles??

A few weeks ago, my cousins and I went to see K'Naan at Bourbon Street. His show kicked ass. The lovely ladies and I were like, right in front of the stage, we had the best standing-room-only-spots in the house!! Maya, Tiya and Mina were there when my little cousin Kia (we share the same name, nahmean??) got there, and unbeknownst to me, I had stationed myself in front of a little boy. When I turned and saw him there, his expression was that of 1,000 lost dreams, and I realized I was blocking his view of the stage. Being a mother, and an all around stand up gal, I switched places with Lil' Z, (who is about 5 inches and 200 lbs. lighter than I am), and his joy was instantly renewed. While standing and waiting for the show to start, the ladies struck up conversation with a group of teenaged white chicks from Annapolis, who were drunk and only 15. Well, the teens started talking to them first. None of them bothered to say anything to me, I guess my intolerance for bullshit was very apparent, as we had been standing there for about 2.5 hours before the show began.
About 15 minutes before the show, I hear my comrades begin to moan and complain about some miscellaneous crazy homeless woman, and before I see who they're talking about, I find myself being accosted and almost knocked down by a giant ass making it's way through the dense crowd to greet the ladies.
Dubbed, "The Crazy Muslim Lady," she planted herself right in front of the little boy I had blocked before. Now, I had moved for the boy, who only looked about 8 or 9 years old at the most, and she was arguing...or firm in her belief I should say, that she should not move out of his way. This kind of pissed me off, so after a brief discussion with Maya and Kia, we decided that Kia and I should switch places, putting me directly in front of The Crazy Muslim Lady, blocking her view of the stage.
"Excuse me," she shouted, shrouded in her various knit scarves and shit ( as seen in the first picture with the red on; we were in a crowded ass, hot room full of people mind you...there are thin cotton scarves, and linen scarves available but she had on some like...knit wintertime neck scarves to cover her self with.. what thee fuuck??!), "but you're in my personal space!"
"Excuse me," I retorted, "but my cousins and I were here first."
"I don't care if you WERE here first, You are in my space, and I will KNOCK YOU DOWN!!!!" The Crazy Muslim Lady threatened, pressing her hips up against mine. We were just about evenly matched in height and weight, so needless to say, I didn't budge.
"Really? Peace out..." *pointed to my peace sign scarf, and threw up the deuces..*
"There is NOTHING peaceful about you! You have your body pressed up against me, trying to push me... I am a Muslim Woman and my BODY IS SACRED!!" (LMMFAO)
"Wow, well pray for me then..."
"Are you Muslim? I pray that you did NOT come out of a Muslim Womb, because you are VERY NASTY!!!"
There was much more to the conversation, but I waited too long to blog about it, and I have the memory of an ostrich, lol. But there was enough happening to catch the attention of a security guard, who came over and attempted to smooth over the situation, which he did with minimal success, because The Crazy Muslim Lady was still salty about the whole ordeal even after the show was over (mission accomlished!! lol).
And then the show starts... yaaaaay!! K'Naan and his band KILLED the show, man. His songs were informative, deep, uplifting...crazy. But those damned silly little girls (who Kia noted, probably didn't even know what he was singing/raping about) were cheering and shit when the room would get quiet, which was also when K'Naan would be talking about death, child soldiers, and the general dire conditions in Somalia.. so much so that he had to indicate to the girls to shut thee fuck up. In addition to their ignorant cheering, they kept swinging their hair around, slapping me in the face with that bullshit. Soo.. I put my cold drink on one of their backs, and didn't have anymore problems with her... lol.
All in all, the show was kickass, and we had a great time. Afterwards, we went to XS and I had my sushi cherry popped, lol!! I ate that shit with chopsticks too, like a damn pro (thanks to the teachings of Mr. Zhang, my highschool Chinese Teacher... BPI, Stand Up!!!), although when I saw the bill..$37.89..uuugh for two sushi rolls and a mixed drink (what thee fuuck??!), my stomach kinda dropped, lol, but it was all good. I am the Prodigal Princess, after all, nahmean?
Tiya, Kia, Maya and Mina... we MUST do it again!!
xoxo

...and her Perfect Imperfections

"I'm going crazy, would you like to come with me?
It's never too late to lose your mind...
Follow Me!! I can set you free..."
- Cee-Lo Green

I'm on twitter: twitter.com/TheNotoriousZAG
I'm on myspace: myspace.com/saharastorm
I'm featured on Black Girl with Long Hair's blog: blackgirllonghair.blogspot.com
(Natural Ladies, stand UP!!! lol)

Check a nigga out, and get with the Organized Insanity, yahmean?

Too Much Of A Good Thing.

Well, my father is dying. Before we start feeling sad and sorry, let me add the disclaimer that I don't really know the dude, so... I mean, I've met him a few times, but he was no Daddy. In all my 26 years, I can count on my fingers (and not use them all) how many memories I have of him being there for something, so his impending doom really doesn't have an effect on me.
Now, with that being said, My father is dying. The dude that has been in and out of jail, roundhouse kicked a muhfucker that owed him $20, held a small group of people hostage for some money that he was owed, hurled a full beercan at one of his nieces for talking slick, got smashed in the chest with a large block of concrete in the prison yard during some construction, heart surgery patient, infamous crackhead and carpenter is dying... from overdosing on OXYGEN.
How, you may ask, does one overdose on the 8th element, so vital to human life? You become a crackhead, and you hook yourself up to a friend's oxygen tank. You set the gauge too high, and voila! Your blood becomes saturated with oxygen. Doctor's couldn't figure out how to rid his blood of the oxygen, so... they basically told him to wait on dying to resolve his medical issues.
From what I can gather, dude is/was highly intelligent. Guess he got caught up with the wrong people after breaking my mother's heart (another story for another day, yet another reason why I don't fuck with that nigga). Oh, yeah, then his "girlfriend" left yo bleeding on the floor of their apartment for 3 days. Now he's been diagnosed with pnumonia. Aaand he's at the hospital directly accross the street from where I happen to live...
Grama (my Mamma's Mamma) is pressuring me to go see him. I might, may make for an interesting blog... may resolve some of my Daddy Issues before he kicks the old bucket. Part of me doesn't want to give him the satisfaction, though. Call it what you like....but I think I turned out alright without his help, yahmean?

LOST

I can't find my creativity. If anyone's out there... If anyone cares INSPIRE me, CHALLENGE me... Someody spark a flame under my ass please! Lol
Love, Later.
-ZAG

Valentimes Day.

Relationships. Relationships. Relationships. That's what Valentines day is all about, right? Red roses and balloons, stuffed animals that have no place in your home, chocolates filled with mystery goo, discounted jewelry, dinners and dates. Love Day. Hugs and Kisses Day.
You can keep all that bullshit.
Relationships are hard work, especially when you live with your S.O. You have to deal with another grown ass person's attitude good or bad, day in, day out. Remember to do or not to do certain shit to keep things as smooth as possible. Bite your tongue when necessary. Sleep with them even when you're fumimg mad because well, you share a bed. It's Very Hard Work. One day of hugs and kisses and candies and stuffed bears and pink and red definitely doesn't phase real adult relationships. Well, at least it shouldn't.
Valentines Day is a day for people to stunt and front on what's real. Real relationships aren't about anything Valentines Day represents. Real relationships are about holey undies, farts and belches, bad morning breath kisses, arguments, misunderstandings, and make-ups. Mystery nougat not included.

www.myspace.com/saharastorm
Check me out!!

Can't You See?!

Wanna know how I know I'm getting old?
People born in the years after I was born are grown and successful.
I had to ask what "smh" meant...smh.
My son is...7?! Wait, didn't I just have this child yesterday?
Eeep!! Still can't believe my oldest niece is driving. Driving!! I remember the day she was born.
Getting old(er) has its perks though. I don't get carded often. I can come and go as I please. I don't have to answer to anyone. I'm responsible. I'm actually looking forward to menopause. Most importantly I can serve as a mentor to the youth!! (stayinskool...)
But I have to make sure I get rid of those stray chin-hairs when I shower. And stress (my neck... My back... Myneckandmyack!!) is a bitch right about now. Decisions need to be made that no one can make for me. I don't understand today's music or fashion. I long for the good ol' days of baggy jeans, Wu-Tang, and Total.
I'm on the road to 30..getting closer every day. Four more years and counting. Wait... 30 is supposed to be the "new 20".. There's hope for this aging chick after all!! LOL

Hair. Mine. (getoverit)

Yesterday, I had the curliest, nappiest 'fro I could ever have. Cute, too. Clips holding down the sides, giving 'em the Jaleesa look (the different world years). Straight nappy.
Today, I have my hair pulled back in a ponytail. With a long ponytail attachment. Straight...straight. With a curl at the end.
I say this to say, hair doesn't change who I am. I'm still the same intelligent, sassy, nerdy, bitchy, hilarious, talented, shy 'till I get to know you, fashion forward, "pretty for a fat girl" chick whether I'm rockin' a natural 'do, or my weaves and attachments.
I don't have to be barefoot and drenched in sandalwood and Kente cloth to be proud and natural. I don't have to be some ignorant stereotypical beeotch, or a sellout to wear a weave. I'm still au naturale whether I wear a weave or not.
So...for those who give a fuck about the state of my hair (and there are too many people who do -_-..) Please know that a. It's really none of your business if you have something negative to say (i.e.: damn you cut off your locks, you aren't even natural anymore! Or... Why you be wearing that fake hair when you have "good hair")
b. My hair is to satisfy me. I like different looks, which quite frankly, is the reason I cut my locks...I didn't have some kind of revelation or epiphany, I just did it.
c. Its JUST HAIR!! LOL. The End.

Its all love though; people just kill me with their stereotypes. I'm more like a prototype than a stereotype (conceit??) though, ya digg?!

Black History Month.

"Don't believe everything you think - You've been programmed." - Erykah Badu
 
 
They make it easy for us to forget that your
grandmother's great-grandmother was definitely...
without a shadow of a doubt a:
SLAVE. PROPERTY.
Beaten and abused, misused they want our history to remain a mystery to us
Get your minds lost in a sea of electronics and other bullshit
distract yourself with Dr. Martin Luther King's "dream"
forget about the fact that they BEAT YOUR GREAT GREAT GREAT GRANDFATHER
Big Black Buck...was beaten
until his back split wide open..oozing..poured salt in the wounds.
made your great, great, great family eat slop from a trough.
like dirty. stinking. pigs.
One pair of shoes a year, my dear.
Your family was on lay-away. Separated from each other.
Sales. Violence. Rape. Torture.
Lost, no voices, no culture, no life.
Property.
Yes the Civil Rights Movement was all that..
but marching to nowhere in particular
didn't do much but get you a good seat on the bus.
Be upfront with yourself, fuck a upfront seat on the bus
When the Oscar Grants and Sean Bells cease to exist
When there is no more Jena 6
When American Citizens are referred to as Citizens and not.. refugees
in their own country
When Our Kids aren't arrested for sitting on stationary dirtbikes
When Niggas don't get strip searched (without reason) in broad daylight
Is when I'll relax and appreciate that bus seat.


Peace (?)

Color Of Change - Oscar Grant III Police Murder

Dear Friends,

On New Year's Eve, Oscar Grant was shot execution-style by transit police officer Johannes Mehserle in Oakland, California. He was shot in the back while lying face down on a subway platform, unarmed and restrained by other officers. Despite damning video evidence, it took nearly two weeks for the District Attorney to arrest Mehserle and charge him with murder. The DA admitted that it was only due to massive public pressure that he moved even at that pace, pressure that included more than 20,000 ColorOfChange members speaking up.

That's why it's so important for each of us to commit to staying involved. Johannes Mehserle's arrest is important, but it's only the first step. In cases like this, history has repeatedly shown that as soon as the public eye turns away the prospect of justice fades. We need you--and so does Oscar Grant's family. Making sure the prosecution does its job and pushing for much-needed reforms will require your voice. Are you in?

Click below-it takes just a moment:
http://www.colorofchange.org/oscar_update/?id=1942-145237

In 14 years as Alameda County District Attorney, Tom Orloff had never before charged a police officer for an on-duty shooting. And when asked, several legal experts were unable to come up with any examples of officer-involved shootings becoming murder cases in California. But overwhelming public pressure made it impossible for Orloff to ignore Oscar Grant's murder. He said that "because of the intense public interest I think more resources were put into wrapping this up than would be put in in other situations." Orloff made it clear that because enough ordinary people spoke out, he poured investigative resources into this case that his record tells us he never would have otherwise. We've exposed a chink in the armor of a system that protects trigger-happy cops instead of regular folks.
Now there's a real opportunity to create systemic changes that would introduce transparency and accountability to police forces across California, and especially to the BART Police Department. We need to keep the pressure on Tom Orloff to make sure he keeps devoting time and energy to Mehserle's prosecution. Help honor the memory of Oscar Grant and others who have fallen victim to police violence. Please sign up to stay involved in pushing for justice in this case and for real accountability for police.

Join me: http://www.colorofchange.org/oscar_update/?id=1942-145237

Thanks.

Much love and respect y'all.

"sometimez i lie cheat steal.. smoke drink fuck.. disrespect misdirect.. knock ice cream out of young'nz handz.. help old ladiez cross the street &then ask for their numberz &,when they politely decline, tell em to remember their vitamin d in the mornin; deez nutz!............... God knowz my heart tho"

Written by: Mr. Burghardt
aka
The Love of My Life

My boyfriend definitely does NOT have swag (and that's a compliment)....

....To live the life of a BlackNerd. *teehee*

Relax. Relate. Release.

I scribe seamless, soothing lullabies for you
And sing them softly until you drift into my world.
Then I wrap and drape you in sheer eloquence
Poetically paving paths to
Promise.
Dreams.
Dedicating each syllable to you in tune with
The Key of Life...
The journey is made easy for you-
Rest assured.

Happy New Year's to all who read!! I am dedicating '09 to...ME. I am focusing on all my goals and desires and will make them happen for me in the next 364 days (this year is a leap). I will bring it back to writing...for a while I had lost the desire to write anything. Wallowing waist deep in self dout, I put my First Love on the back burner. I will also start drawing again... The freedom of creating my own world artistically is unparalled. Tired of the technical engineering humdrum way of things. Give me my FREE!!!


Ps...okay I'm on that bullshit bcz this definitely is NOT a leap year. Sku me ;p