Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Valentine Love

I'm sending you this Valentine
In hopes that you're still mine
And if this Valentine doesn't reach you
It's ok...
-- Norman Connors featuring Michael Henderson

I last celebrated Valentine's Day in 1990.

That was pre-Farrakhan. Pre-Actual Facts. Pre-5%.

If I recall correctly, I was going with this dude named Mike, and he gave me a cheesy box of candy, 6 roses, and some dick.

Yeah. That was the extent of it, but hell, he was only 21. And functionally unemployed.

The years I spent celebrating the day prior to that don't have a firm anchor in my memory, and I can't call upon their knowledge right now.

Had it not been for all the marketing, it's one of the days that I would surely forget about.

All day long, people are asking me What did he get you?

What did who get me?

Your man!

Um...get me for what?

For Valentine's Day!


That's always met with smirks or sneers, or both.

My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because thou hast rejected knowledge... -- Hosea 4:6

Sneer on. While you make a glutton of yourself feasting on those truffles of disease, and caramels of cholesterol. Fervently gobbling down mouthful after mouthful of candied vanity, only to be devastated a month later when said confection of your ego has manifested on your ass in such a way that the love that is allegedly celebrated on February 14th is merely a figment of your imagination.

But smirk on.


Oh, and not to leave the fellas out...I hope you get that shot of annual ass tonight, dawg. Yanno...that piece of ass you ain't seen since last year this time, over a box of Godiva's and a bottle of Ballatore, cuz you were too cheap to buy some good shit. It's just some ass right? With a year-long shelf life.


What starts with an "i" and ends with a "t", people?

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Make That Move

So many times
By holding back, I let the good things pass me by
And then one day I ask myself the reason why
And like an answer from above, you came into my life
And showed me one thing for sure
With love
Nothing is certain
You gotta go for it
When you feel it
Everybody everybody needs somebody to love
And I
Choose you, baby
-- Shalamar

If you're gonna do it, that's the only way to approach it.

I had a male friend tell me that he doesn't "like" rejection.

Well, who does? Hell, I'on like rejection my damn self. But I damn sure don't set myself up for it.

Now Nina is a fine and foxy small piece of leather...and she's well put together! At least when you ask me that question, that's gon' be my answer.

But Ms. Millimeter knows her limitations.

I'm no dime piece.


I ain't no dime.

Not like I aspire to be worth 10 fuckin' cents, but that's beyond the point!

I'm no 10 solely on LOOKS. I've come to grips with that. I've accepted it. That shit don't hinder me. Cool. We >here< ?

But count in my add-ins? And good Lawd, I'm a fuckin' dollar.

Like Vivica Fox -- just on her face -- Vivica ain't no 10. But add her boobage, her clothes, her walk, her talk...her stock goes up, right? Ok. Now let's say...Regina King. Point-for-point in her grill -- Regina ain't stoppin' no traffic. Now c'mon, I love her too -- but Regina's bottom row of teeth look like she been sharpenin' them on bricks. No doubt. But she's average, yanno? But with her face beat, her hair done, the right clothes, and her toned upper-body, Regina's stock goes up.

So that's what I'm talking about. Nina ain't tryna say she ugly. Nina ain't ugly. She just can't get up out of the bed -- no water done hit her -- walk out the door and turn heads. I mean, they might turn. Turn away, that is.

Nina ain't sweet lookin' in the morning.

Anyway...you 'bout to get me off track...

You see, years ago when I was little shorty, my ignorant ass fahva told me that I was average looking. Looked me dead in the face and was like

Your momma's attractive and I'm attractive, but we ain't the stars of the show. We average lookin' and we had average lookin' kids. But just cuz you look average don't mean you gotta be average. You got an advantage havin' average looks. You can add to average and get excellent.

Now you know me, I'm ornery now and I was ornery then. I'm lookin' at this nigga like he on crack or somethin' cuz I think he just told me I ain't cute, but I'm not sure. So I'm lookin' at him and I say

So whatchu tryin' to say?

He rolled his eyes and clucked his teeth like I was stupid or something.

I'm sayin' you ain't got looks to fall back on, so you better damn sight have something else goin' for you.

But I got what he meant. And I'm telling you, out of all the things that li'l nigga told me coming up, that statement has served me so well.

I mean...look at me -- I'm cocky as fuck. Can you imagine if I was Halle Berry beautiful? Well, you might not be able to imagine it cuz you'on know me, but I could. It would be an ugly, ugly sight, people.

Pretty to my left
Pretty to my right
I'm so damn pretty
I can't sleep at night!

If you tell people you're pretty long enough, they'll start to believe you...even when you're not.

You know what I like to do to fuck with people?

I'll call a skinny ass person "fat."

Do you know that will FUCK up a skinny person's mind? Man...they mouth get all juicy, and they spittin' tryna get back at you.

I'm not fat! Baby, I'm a size 2. I have NEVER been fat!

Oh yeah you are, you fat bitch. You fat as shit.

Now see...then they really get fucked up. Cuz it's like...wait...am...I...fat?

I really oughta stop fuckin' with people. But it's too easy.

And I'm good at what I do.

Nope. Don't have no hobbies as of right now. Just fuck with people.

I make fun of all that cruel shit that you like...s'posed to pretend that people don't have?

Like lisps and lazy eyes. Big ass moles with a hair coming out of it and pigeon-toes. Oh lawd...I have a field day if you got knock-knees. I'll tear your ass up if your knees be playin' the canastas offa each other.

All that cruel shit. But you see, I think I'm helping people become in-tune with and embrace their flaws. Kinda like how Daddy did me. Just tell 'em point blank

That's not an overbite. I think your jaw is broke. How the fuck do you eat wit' that?

See...once I tell you that, you look in the mirror...you like, yeah, I got a fucked up overbite. But that's all that shit is to me. It's just an overbite, and it's mine, and regardless of how it looks -- I do manage to eat with it. So fuck it.

...and see, when I can get you there? You're on your way to bein' a dollar, baby.

Accept me baby, as I am
Livin' straight ahead and on my own...
- Angela Bofill

If only more of us could...make THAT type of move.


I started out wanting to talk about one thing...got on a tangent and tried to morph that shit back into what I originally wanted to talk about, but I'on know that I was successfully.

As Minister Farrakhan used to tell us

Eat the meat and spit out the bone.

Remind me to tell you about Ronnie Connelly one day. He deserves his own post, his own music, his own everything.

He's the one that taught me how to load my gun. *hee hee*

No. My figurative gun, idjit. Nina...Millimeter. *ahem*

Uh...maybe you're not smart enough to read my blog.

That's a story for another day though.

Monday, February 06, 2006

It's All About the Music

I borrowed this from Neena Love (check her out under Real Talk), because (1) I thought it was cute, (2) ya'll know me and music are involved in a hot love affair, and (3) I'm being lazy today. Eat my shorts if you don't like it.

1. Favorite political track: The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, Gil Scott Heron

Hands down, the first song to REALLY awaken my consciousness when I was younger

2. Song that makes you dance no matter what? (Not Just) Knee Deep, Funkadelic

I can still remember dancing on the basketball court to this song at our sixth grade dance, even if I had to dance with Troy Taylor’s goblin-lookin’ ass.

3. Song you'd use to tell someone you love them Am I Dreaming?, Atlantic Starr

Pinch me to see if it’s real/Cuz my mind can’t decide -- how’s that for love?

4. Song that has made you sit down to analyze its lyrics? Queen of Sanity, Bilal

Bilal fucks me up with this one, in too many ways. Matter of fact, I’m going to sit down with this song again tonight.

5. Song you like that a two year old would like. Check Up On It, Beyonce

The beat's not hard to find on this one...

6. A song you and your grandparents would like Love & Happiness, Al Green

This was one of my Nonie’s favorite songs. We thought about playing it at her funeral, and we should have. Make you do wrong/make you do rightttttt... I can still see her liftin’ her Colt 45 up to drink to that line.

7. A song that gives you an energy boost: Rejoice, Israel Houghton & New Breed

Even the unholiest of heathens feels the spirit on this one.

8. Song you really liked when you were 13-16 that you really like now: Jukebox Hero, Foreigner

. . . that was back when I played the air guitar professionally, yanno.

9. A sad song that would be in the soundtrack of the movie about your life: While You Were Here, Eric Benet

And now the foolish boy has grown
Into this man I'm sorry you've never known
I'm not afraid to love
'Cause every beat of my heart
Echoes all those memories from way back when
And the man I should have been


Song just tears me up. Reminds me of my boyfriend Poo (R.I.P.) that died in the summer of 1996. Beautiful soul, he was . . . he is.

10. Peppy song that would start the opening credits in the movie of your life:Simple Things, Minnie Riperton

Profound in it’s simplicity. Makes you feel guilty for taking yourself so seriously.

11. A good song from a genre of music that no one would guess you liked: See Line Woman, folk standard

Nina’s diverse, what can I say?

12. Song that you think should have been playing when you were born:The Prototype, OutKast

Well it should have!

13. Favorite duet artists: Angela Winbush and Ronald Isley

Lay Your Troubles Down just gives me goosebumps. The perfect coordination of vocals.

14. A favorite song you completely disagree with: Grillz, Nelly

Nina don't fuck with no metal-mouths, so you know it’s oxymoronic for me to be drivin' down the street, singing, Smile for me, daddy . . .let me see your grill . . .

15. Song that you like despite the fact your IQ level drops several points every time you listen to it: Back Then, Mike Jones

I feel dumb just typing it.

16. Smooth song for relaxing Sweet Water, Craig T. Cooper

Off the top of my head cuz I just heard it earlier today, but Craig gives it to you.

17. A song you would send to someone you hateWhen A Woman’s Heart is Broken, Sparkle

Beautiful rendition of "overness."

18. Favorite track from a band considered a "super group" I’ll Write A Song For You, Earth Wind & Fire

Wanna hear me hit the high note?

19. A song that makes you reminisce about good times with a family memberCan’t Stay Away, Bootsy’s Rubber Band

This is a staple during the Millimeter Sisters Sing-A-Long every weekend. They don’t ever let me sing lead though.

20. Your favorite song right now: Yo (Excuse Me Miss), Chris Brown

Man . . . if I was 16 years olddddddd . . . Chris Brown could GET.IT. Frequently. Fervently. And with vigor. Ya heard?

Friday, February 03, 2006

Unconventional Ways

Too big to confine
Too deep to define
This is yours and mine
No stronger ties
Could bind
-- Unconventional Ways, Jazzyfatnastees

I'm convinced that people are just fuckin' numbnuts.

People have gotten by so long on just opening their mouth and bullshittin' their way through their existence, sellin' their irrelevant wares to the nearest ear...

...that they've forgotten how it is to really make some SENSE.

Of course, I'm that muthafucka that will tell you, after you have long exhausted your breath and your place, that

You didn't make a lick of fuckin' sense.

Not in a mean way. More matter of fact than anything. And it's not like I didn't give you a chance to make a cogent thought. I mean...how long I stand there and listen to you ramble on? You had your chance.

Now, shut up talking to me.

Somebody told me I had a foul mouth.

I wonder if you needed a degree to figure that out.

See I look at it like this...

It's my mouth, see. I'll say what I fuckin' want, see. You ain't God, see. Fuckouttaherewiddat, see.

Or maybe I gets ghetto on you and bust out with the...

I'll say the fuck what I want, mayne. You got that, mayne? You musta forgot, mayne. Fuckouttaherewiddat, mayne.

Not that I'm inclined to explain my expletive-laden prose, but there is probably one person or three out there that I wouldn't mind knowing that I'm very much into colloquialisms. I'm intrigued by them.

I grew up in a cussin' family.

Pick that shit up!

Get your ass in here, gal!

Fuck up again and see what I do!

That's how we communicated.

Oh sure, we could break out the King's English and split the infinitive with the best of 'em...but at my house

You expressed the fuck outta yourself.

Ok, I'm coming down K Street this morning, and I'm all for my black brothers gettin' up early, pressing towards the mark, and getting their butts into work.

Actually, when I see a trio of black men at the corner about to cross over into their office building, my nipples start doing push-ups and my fallopian tubes start poplockin'.

Fuh real. A workin' black man is a turn-on.

But what's with all these black men bammin' out during the work week?

Now ya'll know Nina is a fair and equal admirer of people, and she'on mind if you not quite matchin', but your shit is neat and clean.

Like I'on mind if you have on cordoroys and it's April, but they neat and clean. I'ma give you a pass all day long on that.

But some shit, black men...fuck if it's neat and clean. Some shit ya'll shouldn't be havin' PERIOD.

Like pointy-toed shoes. No pointy-toed shoes are hot for a man. NONE. Not a one. If you got some, you ain't got no business havin' 'em.

Windbreakers. Uh...if you're monkey ass ain't on a bike, guess what you'on have no business havin' in your possession?

Pinky rings.

Ok, there are some clothes that are known for their inherent flaws, and it's ok to rock 'em like that. Such as linen. You can look like you just jumped out of a drawer like Hong Kong Fooey with linen on. Silk clings when you perspire. Now, of course, it's best that you don't sweat while you have on silk, but if you get dewy in the club, and your silk shirt sticks to you...see, that's a pass.

But suede ain't one of them materials.

Once suede gets dirty, suede need to be cleaned. It's not indigenous of the fabric to have ground-in smudge on the elbows. That shit ain't cute.

Get that nasty fuckin' jacket cleaned.

These types of obvious gotdamn tomfoolery makes MY muthafuckin' commute stressful, cuz I gotta stop err'y now and then and give you the


Beep me 911
Or call me on my cell phone
I'll call you back
To see what you gon' tell me
You don't wanna date
No ifs and or maybes
It's over babe
-- Missy Elliott

That's some medieval shit right there.

Breakin' up with someone over the phone, that is.

I must admit that I've never broken up with anyone over the phone. If Nina was through with you, Nina would just never call you again, and you could assume that you and Nina was done. But there's something about a person dialing your number, and havin' the audacity to tell you they'on wanna be with you anymore.

I mean...fuckIlooklike listening?

You ain't gettin' no audience from me to break up with MY ass. Oh hell to da naw.

Him: Hey, Nina. Yo, I need to talk to you.
Me: Wassup, baby?
Him: You know, I've been thinkin' that it's just not really workin' out the way I thought it would, and I think it would be best if...
Me: *click*

I'm hangin' up the phone when ANYBODY says the phrase "I think it would be best...," cuz 9 times out of 10 what THEY think would be best ain't gon' be best for me.

Naw...I'm gettin' off the ph-yone DI-RECKLY.

It's not avoidance, it's principle.

FuckIlooklike you breakin' up with me...and I'm holdin' the phone...listening?

How come you don't call me...anymore? -- Prince