The quote has absolutely nothing to do with anything, I just wanted to be pseudo-deep for a minute. Moving along, I always wanted to be drawn. Granted, I wanted to lay down on a soft, luxurious couch in a golden room decorated with the finest, classical art of sub-Saharan Africa, while a chocolate, muscular man with abs strong enough for me to wash my laundry on, sits behind an easel, draped in silk and etches me in exaggerated fashion onto a canvas. Advertisements
I lost weight! Now that yall know that, let’s get into who I’m judging “In the Judgement Room.” Today? We’re talking about the long overused phrases “Support local” or better yet, “Support your own.” I know you’ve heard this once, or twice or probably every damn day as you land on social media. So, the question is what does this really mean?
I know I’m not the only person who can’t look at red baseball caps the same. Every since Pres. 45 campaigned with that damn hat, I give an immediate side-eye to anyone I see with just the color. Online of course, because I never saw anyone with a red hat in real time before…or maybe I never cared before because it was just a damn hat at the time.
I’m taking a cycling class!!! The ending of this year, I committed myself to becoming a much healthier person. I needed to change my eating habits ASAP and become more active. Becoming more active also meant giving up some sleep which is probably the hardest part because I love me some sleep. So. it’s not that I’m losing sleep—because that’s counter-productive—but rather I’m working on staying up more. My sleeping schedule is stupid as hell. I’m the kind of person who would wake up at noon and then go to bed at 4 a.m. I’m not a morning person at all. In fact, I’m inclined to believe people who wake up at 5 a.m. are hellions. Baby Jesus ain’t even up yet, why the hell are you? But I guess I have started joining you underworld folks in order to continue on this “best me” shit.
Class is in session again. I realize that many of you don’t quite know how to conduct yourself on the “interweb,” but that’s why I’m here–not really. My job–it really isn’t–is to help you assimilate into this online life seamlessly…and with as few dragging sessions as possible.
Marissa’s gaze shifted slightly, wondering if it was still too late to dive out the window and make a run for it. Maybe Melanie was bluffing and the drop wouldn’t kill her. And if she was some supernatural creature surely, she’d be fine. The hairs on her neck were standing. The room was dead silent. They were waiting for her to give her answer. Though she was focused on her escape, she was also very aware of the men’s’ bodies. They were prepared to shoot at her at the slightest suspicious movement. She did not like her odds at all right. Even if she could use the window, she’d probably be riddled with bullets before she could jump out.
So I just wanted to share one of my bad habits with everyone. To make things shorts, I don’t fix things, I replace. I’m typing this piece while staring at my cracked iPhone which I am about to replace as soon as my order arrives sometime next week…or next month…whenever the U.S Postal Service gets back to normal following this hurricane nonsense. In case you missed it, the Virgin Islands just went through two hurricanes last month. Two Category five, fuck shit up and move along hurricanes. Irma and Maria. I can’t befriend anyone with those names now because I’m convinced that anyone with those names are miserable, wicked and bad minded. Yall on time-out until January 2018.
Another day of me not minding my business. So it’s a crisp Friday afternoon in September. The 15th to be exact. Hurricane No Way Jose just lashed at us with his tail because he ain’t shit and instead of disappearing he decides to sing despacito on the ocean. He is moving SLOWLY. So you know bad weather creates bad decisions. Like…say…hacking your boyfriend’s facebook page and letting us know that he has hella hoes.
Marissa tilted her head as she regarded the stranger standing across the room. The woman looked exhausted, and there were dark circles under her brown eyes. Her jet-black hair was cut short and hidden under an equally dark cap. The woman held her hands to her mouth, her face covered in shock and concern.
Now this fool over here a few months back in March. I’m on “Le Book,” after 4 days of being blocked due to “copyright infringement.” Apparently, you’re not supposed to share music videos anymore. But you know what MARK maybe, MAYBE if you had removed the video from the person who actually posted it, I wouldn’t have been able to share it. How Bow Dah. Your security team is a flipping farce. Get it together. Back to what I was saying. So I’m scrolling through Facebook and I pass by a post with at least 14 images of screenshots of what appears to be someone’s infidelity. Yall know me already.