nine words women use
I rarely forward email jokes because they annoy me, but this one I found to be a tad bit humorous & truthful so I thought I’d share.
NINE WORDS WOMEN USE
- author unknown
1. Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.
2. Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.
3. Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.
4. Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don’t Do It!
5. Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.)
6. That’s Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That’s okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.
7. Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you’re welcome. (I want to add in a clause here – This is true, unless she says ‘Thanks a lot’ – that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say ‘you’re welcome’ . that will bring on a ‘whatever’).
8. Whatever: Is a woman’s way of saying F– YOU!
9. Don’t worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking ‘What’s wrong?’ For the woman’s response refer to # 3.
What is a real man?
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old school cartoons & participation ribbons
I fell asleep shortly after dinner yesterday on the couch. I woke up groggy but noticed all my sons sleeping around me. I got in trouble before falling asleep watching UFC, only to wake up to Irresponsible Spoiled Sluts Gone Wild, so I have to monitor what station I watch before I retire. Heck you can’t even leave it on the Cartoon Network at night anymore due to Adult Swim.
Flipping through the stations I searched for something to watch before I passed out again. I usually leave it on ESPN or NFL Network, but figured I’d be nice and put on something for them. I was annoyed with PBS Kids, Disney, Toon Disney, Disney HD, Nick Jr, hell even Nick Sr…so I flipped it to Boomerang. Figured I’d go old school and fall asleep to cartoons I grew up with. Now something about me – I hate sleeping with a TV on because it influences my dreams. If something comes on like Criminal Minds, CSI or Law & Order I will have some ol crazy dream about solving crimes in my underwear standing barefoot on warm cookie sheets, so I try to keep it on sports or make sure the TV timer is on.
I passed out as expected and woke up groggy again…this time faintly hearing the dialogue on the television. I swear they were talking about playing craps. I got up thinking what type cartoon is this? I drank some water to wake up. I stood there watching as this cartoon, Top Cat, was negotiating with a bookie. I am not making this stuff up. He owed somebody $50 and he was trying all these hustles to get the bread to pay back this thug. Top Cat went to an officer and pretended to be a producer or something to hustle him for some investment money. He even dressed like a hustler – like he bought his purple hat & matching vest from downtown Detroit.
I sat there thinking…man this is what America used to be about. Our cartoons and shows were so gritty. Bugs Bunny & Elmer Fudd taught us how to bust caps if there is a disagreement. Our shows taught real life stuff – like how to hustle and pull women. Remember Heathcliff? There was a pimp on the show named Riff Raff. He was like a record producer or something and drove a Cadillac that transformed into a boat and a camper. He wore an old school Kangol and even had a fine kitty sista on his arm. Our cartoons also taught us morals. Smurfette for instance. She was one female in a village with 99 other dudes and was treated like a queen. She learned how to manipulate without being the town whore. Flinstones taught us that even ugly dudes with big heads can pull pretty chicks. Scooby Doo taught us how to reason and recognize a scam artist. He-Man & She-Ra taught us about steroids. The Muppet Babies and Alvin & the Chipmunks taught us how to harmonize without Autotune. Inspector Gadget taught us that women do all the hard work while men take credit for it. GI Joe introduced us to terrorism and how to fight it. ShirtTales taughts us that you could make a decent living being a T-Shirt designer if you have a hot slogan. Richie Rich taught us that rich kids live better than poor kids, and you’ll never be happy unless you make money. All these things in cartoons were the moral fabric that kept this society together!
But now what do we have? Zack and Cody? Hanna Montana? That’s so Raven? Heck they don’t even watch cartoons unless they are computer generated like Pixar films. All these fruity shows that don’t teach them anything but annoying humor and how to be soft and whiny. We never wore bike helmets, we just took our concussions like little men (and women). Neosporin? Heck you best pour some peroxide on it and keep it moving. Videogames? Naw, we played sports and pretended (there’s a concept). Our imaginations were unlimited. If we didn’t have access to it, we’d create it. Take an old crate, some nails, a hammer and build a basketball rim. We didn’t have Gatorade…we drank out the water hose. The fat kids in school we could all name. There were only a handful in the entire school. Now it’s the opposite…and you have to name the skinny kids or the ones in shape. We were rewarded with pizza parties. They are numb to that as they eat pizza everyday now.
In my day we had concrete playgrounds, not any of that woodchip, recycled tires crap. I will find some of my grade school classmates to confirm this, but we had this two-story death trap at my elementary school (Edison). This thing had to be two stories tall and every kid had to climb to the top of this monstrous beast at least once. Every year we had a kid break his arm falling off that monkey bar. Thing is, in my era even the fat kids were somewhat athletic and they never cried – even in gym class when we had to climb the rope 40 ft in the air with nothing to catch us but a decrepit gym teacher and a 2-inch foam mat. Kids don’t even play dodgeball in school anymore. My son came to me and told me they played frisbee dodgeball. I looked at him and scrunched my face up like, “What in the hell is frisbee dodgeball?” They are making these kids so soft. We played with old tattered soccer and volleyballs with the leather hanging off. We had whelps on us after the games, but we never complained as it built character. It taught us how to compete. Something this generation is missing because all those nerds we used to throw dodgeballs at went to therapy for it, then got their doctorates, jumped on these school boards and tried to change the rules because of their issues with being lazy and nonathletic back in elementary school and always picked last.
Let me give you an example of what my friend coins, the __ssification of America’s youth. Field Day 2010…versus Field Day 1986. My sons showed me the list of their events for Field Day this year. They had noodle spray, water race track, mentos diet coke explosion, puzzle pipes, and just…man, just a string of gay events my brain can’t even remember. Their ideal was to make it less competitive and more about fun where everyone is a winner! No you fat heifer of a principal, em…sorry…not everyone is a winner in life. In our era we worked out weeks in advance preparing for and anticipating Field Day. We had real events…like races. I remember all the chatter among friends about the events and what we would dominate. Friendly trash talk started weeks before until the day of. We competed hard, and at the end of the field day we left it all out on the field. We would pin all them to our shirts and couldn’t wait to see who had the most blue or red ribbons. And you best not be the kid who didn’t win anything and just had the green participation ribbon.
We are getting away from some of the crooked core values that this country was built on. We are losing the fundamentals of competition and growing to be a nation of some whiny bastards. We need to get back to basics…hustling cartoons, dodgeball and outright competition. I think we can all agree that life was a lot more fulfilling then…that is unless you were one of the kids with the green ribbons.
The Case of the Missing Buns
Common – “Stolen Moments Pt. 1″
There was a Hardy boy mystery I was tryin’ to solve
Can’t understand who the **** was involved
Back from a show I had came, hopped off the plane
In my mind home was pictured and rest was the frame
At the mound I stand vocal pitch high
Asking – who done it?
But in this case…there is no rest. I present to you a mystery. In the same fashion of Shutter Island, an item mysteriously disappeared from our house almost as if it vanished into thin air. We have a suspect in custody, but can’t prove what happened.
Yesterday I was talking to the mrs on the way home from work and stopped to get a few groceries. I picked up several items, including a pack of hamburger buns. Usually when I arrive home I am greeted by all my little minions…a routine I’ve grown fond of even if I have had a bad day. I instruct them to retrieve the groceries which usually results in a battle to see who can get their shoes on the fastest. The children then rush to put the groceries in their proper place so they can be nosy and see what new snacks I purchased.
This morning as I prepared for work, the mrs kindly fussed at me about a missing grocery item as I am always forgetting something. But this time when she told me what it was, I immediately stated I know for a fact I picked up the item in question. I then asked to review the receipt while instructing the oldest to go back out to the vehicle and see if the buns fell out.
I started to assess the facts. I stuffed the receipt in one of the bags, and I recall #3 unfolding it while carrying it over to a basket on the counter. I’d review the evidence later. My oldest walked back in and stated he didn’t see anything out there, but he did recall #4 bringing the bread bag in yesterday. He was my character witness.
In the past I have had to instruct my oldest to let #4…our 3yr old…bring one of the lighter bags in so he won’t feel left out. Which I really didn’t have to do as he would have just bullied his way to a bag anyways. This kid is like a little kingpin running the house from his short stature. He is an absolute parenting challenge as he is awake when I fall asleep and up before I awake. It’s like this child never sleeps. And he will ask for stuff non-stop. I was late for work the other day and he had this whimper cry that he does when he wants something. I ask what he wants…hoping it was something simple like juice…and he pinned me against the fridge and responded, “Daddy I want egg sam-mich with cheeze and chips and drink.” I mean literally gave me an order like this is the IHOP or something.
He is also physically strong and fearless, which is a trait of kingpins. He will jump on the oldest (10 yrs old) and spar and wrestle with him for hours…then go back to the others once he gets his weight up and beat the crap out of them screaming THIS IS SPARTA!!! as he plants his foot on their chests and kicks them off their Wii. I created a post about this joker before entitled – 40 mins in the life of a 2yr old terrorist.
Back to the case. I analyzed the evidence with my wife and recalled her fussing at #4 yesterday for squishing the loaf of bread I brought home, which happened to have the buns in the same bag. So we know he is the culprit, but just don’t know where he put the buns. We questioned the kingpin this morning, but of course he was devoid of answers. He would not budge and told us, “You pigs will never take me alive!”
Try interrogating a toddler. No seriously, try it.
I will keep you posted on the investigation as more clues come about…
Diary of a Tired Black Man
Hey Blog reader people…whatever you’re called. I’ve been on a brief hiatus. Ok, more like when Martin went to the temple to rediscover himself. Life has been hectic between work, family and other projects so I temporarily retired from blogging. But something caught my attention a few days ago and sparked this post. I will warn you before you read, this may offend some people. And due to the subject matter, it is a tad longer that posts in the past.
A few years ago I saw this internet clip (click here). At first I laughed at how ridiculously corny it was, but then it started to make me mad. I forgot about it until going through Netflix the other day at work. I placed it in my instant queue, and shortly after dinner my wife and I sent the kids away so we could watch it.
Man, where to start…
First let me make this clear – I AM NOT AGAINST INTERRACIAL RELATIONSHIPS. I don’t get bothered seeing it, I honestly don’t care. I feel if you find love in another race and they treat you right and you are equally yoked, then why not? Once again I will say I do not have a problem with interracial dating or marriages. What I do have a problem with is people excluding an entire race based off their foolish decisions and experiences with them. For the director Tim Alexander, these angry black females that you dated are a reflection of YOUR intelligence retard. You choice them so stop getting mad because they don’t do everything you say!
Blog readers, I implore you to rent this trash, better yet find a site to bootleg it and download it so you can immediately put it in the recycle bin when done. Then come back here and let’s have a discussion on it.
The underlying theme of this movie is black women don’t know how to treat a good black men due to their temper. The problem with the film are the outlandish scenarios. Trust me, I was brought up in the hood so it is not like I been living in nice neighborhoods my entire life. I have seen ghetto, but this is just over the top. This guy gets divorced and comes to pick his daughter up (click here). First of all, what group of sistas, ignorant sistas as the director was trying to portray, will sit there and let you go off and talk about them like that? Fool please I like to see you try. You’d be crawling back to that car. Second, why did he bring the girl over in the first place? Regardless of race, he was being petty. The previous clips just showed him dating numerous girls, and this wasn’t a long term relationship. So why did he bring her in the first place? Maybe that was just me thinking about the kid, but seemed like he was just trying to be simple.
The film was chocked full of nonsense and people commenting who didn’t know what in the hell they were talking about. There was this African guy who was talking and he made some comment about how American families don’t stay together like theirs, and this that and the other. I sat there offended and thought…African men are the last men who should comment. These same cats who would pile in a car and stalk women in my wife’s hometown looking for a woman to harass. How are you speaking about something when you truly don’t understand what’s going on in the states? I could have sworn that you have military branches from other nations over in your country because of the alarming rate you raping women and committing genocide. Furthermore you can’t relate to our families because our history’s are different. Our families were broken up for a purpose, whereas yours were able to stay together. I will leave that alone.
I continue watching this flick and there was this scene with a BBQ. The women were at a table and the son asked a question. The mom flat out cursed him out and made some comment about his no good daddy. Seriously? I guess you have to see it in context of the scene. I am not saying ignorance escapes our people, but it was so outlandish. I am tired of loser men blaming women for kids turning out wrong. If you were around then you can speak. Other than that, stop saying all that stupid ish like, “Only a man can raise a man” when you haven’t done crap yourself. Furthermore if you don’t have kids or a son, shut up and mentor a young man then instead of running your trap. Be a freaken man yourself first.
That same BBQ a guy, who I assume was supposed to be a good guy, went to talk to this young lady. He was annoying, and kept trying to interrupt her while she was speaking with her friend. Then he walked away and another guy came up who I guess the director was trying to imply was a thug. He wasn’t 
ignorant, but had charisma and the girl talked to him. I sat there and told my wife, hell I am a dude and that first guy annoyed the hell out of me. Every time a girl talks to a dboy over someone else it may not necessarily be what he does or his lifestyle. Maybe it is just his confidence in approaching her. What woman wants a weak man? I, being a guy, saw her point and why she did it. For one the nice guy was annoying. For two, the other guy, thug or whatever, wasn’t disrespectful and he was very assertive. He had this confidence that oozed from his pores, and that is what attracted her.
There have been a lot of studies on testosterone, pheromones, and females reactions to them. I watched a documentary on male/female relationships and they performed a test where they showed a select group of women photos of men and measured/recorded their reaction and preferences. ALL the women chose men that had more manly features (ex. strong jaw line) versus the men with feminine or soft facial features. It is an instinctive thing. Even in the animal kingdom, female animals lean towards the male who is the biggest and strongest. Why? Because he can meet her needs to be provided and protected for. Something these new age guys are completely missing. But I’ll leave that alone because we have so many sensitive men nowadays I don’t want to offend somebody.
This flick was it was so one sided. They try to make ALL black women seem like they aren’t about crap, and that there is this plethora of good men out there. Then turn around and have a scene where there are 4 married guys at the bar trying to get this dude to smash a chick. So these are examples of good men, right? Talking about side pieces of ass? They made it out like this husband was just a pillar of virtue and the wife was just awful. One scene she wakes him up and throws his boxers at him in the middle of the night because they were on the floor. Really? What sista do you know that would have a man allegedly as good as this one was supposed to be and would do that? Second, negro pick up your freaken clothes and stop being ignorant. Can you be considerate? Another scene she stomped his foot in the restaurant because she was mad her salad had tomatoes in it, then went home and smacked and spit in his face. Or her saying she will only submit to a mani or pedicure. Or another scene where he wanted to go to church and she threw a tantrum and didn’t. Let’s do a real talk break. Real talk, statistically women make up about 80% of black churches. So find me an instance where a man wants to go and a woman fights him on it? Seriously. Dude was reaching with this flick.
I guess overall I get upset with this movie because he pretends to search for the reason black women are angry, but really doesn’t want to know the answer. What black men need to realize is when women act out it is because of fear. They act out because they get a glimpse of something that sparks their fears. Fear of rejection, fear of cheating, fear of neglect, fear of being alone.
For the white girls out there, know that when sistas look at you funny…yes they are bitter. Black women, for the most part, don’t really like white guys. They love black men and black men use sistas their entire lives. Black women raise them, black women understand them, black women love them…flaws and all. They know what brothas are trying to get away with and aren’t passive about correcting it. The problem is most men are so prideful that they don’t want to hear they are doing anything wrong. Black women still love them and continue to do everything in their power to please and make themselves presentable to black men, including adding all types of chemicals to their hair to straighten (watch Good Hair). They do all this and brothas still f them over. So yes, this pisses sistas off.
There was an old article in an Essence magazine that my wife brought to my attention. One of the several ladies they interviewed was white and she said that black men prefer to be with white women because they are more laid back and allow them to relax when they are with them, etc. But she said that honestly white women can afford to be like that with them because they don’t go through the same day to day stress and challenges that black women do. This is coming from a white woman.
It is hard to really convey this point because oftentimes it is difficult for others to see outside of their own circumstance. When black women say there are no good men left, they have a valid argument. I grew up in a predominately black city, black school, black church. I didn’t get my first dose of diversity until I attended The Ohio State University. Once I arrived I actually started to grasp just how large the white population is. I recently looked up some old census data. The table showed there were 16,465,185 black men and 18,193,005 black women, compared to 103,773,194 white men and 107,687,432 white women. According to a report by the NY Times in 2008, 1 in 9 black men between the ages of 20 and 34 are incarcerated. And out of the brothas that are left, how many of them are doing right? As you can see the numbers are scarce. From a black woman’s perspective. white women outnumber them AND have a larger selection to choose from, yet still pool from the small list of black men. Yes they are angry, but I think they have a right to be. I think many times it is just difficult for women to articulate their point because they are so frustrated.
The entire movie men tried to make a point that they want peace at home. To me everything said from the black woman’s perspective could be summed up in one comment. There was this chick who said – A man can have peace at home when he takes care of business!
I am going to pause here because I know I have lost some of my brothas. I had a conversation with my friend yesterday about this. He tends to believe we are making strides and that black men are doing a lot better than we were. His argument was about the group of us who didn’t have fathers, and how we are stepping in the hedge for our children. But I say it is still not good enough. Having a job or taking your kid to the park does not make you a good man. You are SUPPOSED to do that. Our people’s minds are so warped we think we are doing good when we are doing what we are called to do. A good man to me goes over and beyond that. A good man will be responsible off the rip and care for a woman and respect her. A good man will move his pride to the side and LISTEN when he needs to be corrected. A good man will nurture his wife and children spiritually, will protect them, will provide for them. We are so far behind the curve. How I don’t want to discourage black men, I just feel we have a long way to go. And yes I am hard on black men but that is because God blessed me with a litter of little black men and I am so serious about my responsibility of cultivating them. I feel that once men start being men and accepting responsibility our society will change. I am a fan of roles. I believe society is the way it is right now because men have become lazy and not done what they were supposed to be doing. And the reality is once men take charge and step up and lead, then everything else falls into place. Until then society will continue being a mess!
Are there ignorant females out there? Hell yes there are. I could devote a post to that, but I chose not to. I chose to honor what God blessed us with, and be harder on males because I feel if we lead, we can change our community. Ever since Adam we have been deferring the blame. She did it. My dude told me, “Come on Rome, we gave em a rib.” But real talk, God gave them the rib, and if he left it up to us…women may not be here. Lol.
I told my buddy this scenario yesterday. Say you are young and they build a park in your neighborhood. You break glass, bottles, tear up the grass, litter, dig up dirt, ride your bike all over it, piss on it, disrespect it, tear it up. Then you get older and look back and say, “Man, this park is garbage. I hate it. How did it get like this?” You completely defer all that you did and make it someone else’s fault. I feel that is how brothas do sistas. God built them for us, yet we trash them. We spend our entire life trying to pimp them, sex them, use them…then we get older and want to say they all ho’s. What did we sow into them? Are we not responsible? That is why I don’t dive into females on this post because I feel until we start accepting some responsibility and be accountable for what we did; we have no room to talk.
If you don’t like black women, that is your choice. If their attitude is too much for you, then walk the other way. But like I told my wife…attitude is sexy. If you can’t deal with a black woman’s attitude then you are a weak man…PERIOD! If you are a real man and take care of business, you will demand respect. It is as simple as that. Problem is we have so many weak ass men out there that just want the easy route that they run at the first sign of a female telling them about their trife ass. Nobody, no man, wants to be told he is doing something wrong. I’ll admit that. But hell that is what is attractive to me about sistas. They won’t just let you get away with any damn thing!
If I sound upset about this movie then you are right, I am. What made me mad is we, as a people, have avenues now to utilize our finances and resources to make movies and media products that encourage and enlighten, yet this is how you choose to spend your dime? How dare you insult our women like this! Our women help nurture this country when others were too lazy to. They raised their children and others. They cooked, they cleaned, they kept homes together. Hell where do you think Paula Dean gets all her recipes from? I know you don’t think she created them all. Black women have it so hard. We (black men) degrade them in videos, degrade them in life. We don’t look outside of ourselves and see what they have to go through, and just want to label them as mad or angry. There are things black women have to go through that other races don’t. Even something as small as exercise. Sistas can’t workout daily the same way other races do or do relaxing things like swimming. Why? Because of the texture of their hair, what it takes to maintain and manage it after water & sweat, etc. There are so many little things that black women deal with daily that people don’t really care about…but then want to know why they’re angry?
Then society just doesn’t care about them. All the brilliant black actresses and none won an Academy Award until she got bent over a couch and rammed? And you think things are on a level playing field? Do you think if Tiger’s wife was black and all his mistresses were black we’d have such media attention? Be honest. We just flat out run black women through the mud. They are discriminated twice…because they are female and black. They can’t simply get mad at work or have a disagreement like other races or they are labeled as that angry black woman. And through all that they still rise up and real talk fellas, have surpassed us education wise and in the workplace. You have to love and admire their strength!
If you want to label them as angry, then so be it. But you know what? I love my angry black woman. I love how she walks, how she talks. I love her hair. I love her skin tone. I love her physique and curves. I love how she looks beautiful without makeup. Love how clean she is. Love her humor. Love how she ages gracefully. How she cooks how she nurtures. How she sings how she dances. Her rhythm, her soul, her radiant glow. How she puts me in line when I need to be, how she encourages me. How sexy she looks when I sweat that perm out. How she disciplines our children. How she keeps our house together. How she fights me. How she makes up with me 
. How she is my ride or die chick when ish hits the fan. How she understands the trials I go through and can help coach me through them.
The question I pose to Tim Alexander is where is your mother? How did she raise you? What did she do to traumatize you. Apparently you have some issues because of his hatred and disrespect of black women. I honestly think he just needs to shut the hell up altogether. Honestly if you don’t want or like black females, then don’t. That is your preference. Just shut up, go get whatever that will put up with you and leave sistas alone. You don’t have to belittle them or tell them why you don’t like em, just leave and don’t talk to em anymore. And when ish goes belly up like OJ, don’t come running back expecting support.
why I blog?
If you stumbled upon my blog, you may run across some posts to make you say, “Just who in the hell does this guy think he is?” Well I am going to tell you. Everything I say I speak from experience. I don’t speak to be malicious or to make anyone feel bad. I speak the truth, and give advice I share with young and old men/women in my family. To my sons, nieces, cousins, friends. I focus a lot on relationships because I think they are critical to life. I may not get a lot of things in life, but I understand how relationships work.
(Stay tuned because the new blog with my wife is coming real soon.)
What this blog isn’t. You won’t find a high and mighty condescending guy sitting here on my thrown telling all the dumb females of the land what is wrong with them and ignoring what I did to contribute to the problem. I am not going to talk about your issues when I am not walking as the man I was created to be. I have seen blogs where (male & female) will make comments to belittle someone and make themselves feel better about their own insecurities. I don’t sit here and try to magnify someone else’s problems to mask my own. Trust me, I got issues!! I even have a “I have issues” shirt in my closet. But one thing you can count on is I would never give anyone advice on this blog that I wouldn’t take myself. I am not going to go off about somebody not having the discipline to manage their finances, or continue education, or get out of debt to buy a house…in a tone almost as if I am disgusted…and I can’t manage the words coming out of my mouth, have the discipline to maintain a healthy weight, or hell even manage to sustain a lasting relationship. I have made a lot of mistakes with relationships in the past, and I am now blessed to be with a wonderful woman for over a decade. I am not an expert by any means, but I can recognize some of the foolishness I took part in, and if I can prevent someone from making a dumb mistake with a few words then I will.
With the popularity of blogs, social networks, facebook groupies / desperate cyber stalkers, it tends to be a bit overwhelming hearing peoples vastly different viewpoints. It is actually quite annoying, so I know I am not for everyone. I am not self-righteous nor do I bend the moral compass to ignore my faults while highlighting others. I am not one of those people that just randomly Googles scriptures to pretend I am something I am not. We all are works in progress, but some people tend to, as we used to say back in the day, put up a front.
I also won’t use this as a platform to express when my feelings are hurt. You know back in the day grandma (figure of speech) used to teach that family (relationship) business stays within the walls. If my wife and I are disagreeing, I promise no one else on this earth would ever know about it (especially not on a blog) because we established that early in our relationship. It amazes me how relationships go sour, and people will take cyber shots at one another. It is a sad trend, and it really is pointless because at the end of the day, what is done is done. I know it is hard when you sow into something/someone and dream of the possibilities…all to have it slam into a brick wall like a crash test dummy. But when it is over it is over. When the movie ends you don’t sit there after the credits staring at the blank screen dwelling on what was. You have to get up and move.
My friends all know me as one of the realest cats ever. As the youngens say in this era, keeping it 1hun. But I am also transparent and show empathy. I think all bloggers write from a passionate place. We use it as therapy to vent for whomever wants to listen. But at times in life things are peachy and we tend to intertwine a lot of emotion into it…sometimes emotion that could be hurtful and harmful to others. I understand how powerful words are so I am cognisant of this. It is never my intention to take shots or belittle anyone, but assist in deliverance from nonsense.
a woman’s heart
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planning for an open door
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