ShIt BlAcK PeOpLe LoVe

Black people love being late.  Black people are late for everything - late for work, late for their doctor’s appointment, late for meetings, late for weddings, late for funerals.  It doesn’t matter if the black person is the bride or the corpse, she’s gonna be late. 

It’s not completely black people’s fault.  Moi discovered this when she recently attended a party given by africans.  The invitation was for 4 o’clock.  Moi shows up at 4:30, entered the ballroom - exactly one table out of twenty-five had guests.  Yours truly then decided to partake at the bar to wait for the guests to arrive.  Four-and-one-half hours later, guests were still arriving.  It wasn’t until fully at 8:30 that evening that all of the guests showed up!  The next day, the hostess apologized attempting to explain to moi that, well, africans can be a little late sometimes.  Moi brushed it off reminding her that she was, after all, a descendant of africans and was quite familar with CP time. 

So is it genetic or is something else going on?  Do black folks see time as something the white invented and they refuse to be “slaves” to it?  Moi has attended black weddings and literally waited two hours for the bride to finally show.  Don’t attend a Tyler Perry play.  You’ll miss the first two acts while black folks are stepping on your feet to get to their seats.  Attend a “white” play and the only ones that show late, are, yep, you guessed it, black folks.  Moi rolls her eyes at them and thinks, “Harrump - *typical*!”  Moi has her on dealings with time.  She shows up for doctor’s appointments ahead of time.  She gets to the movies ahead of time.  She’ll meet you at the corner of Vine and Maple on time, but she’s late every day for work and daring somebody to say something so she can crop an at-tit-tude.

Late for everything and copping an attitude about it, black people love that shit. 

On A Serious Tip:

If the above sounds like you, you might be interested to know just why you are always late:  Capitol City Courier

Black people love complaining about being black. They love being black and they love complaining about being black.

Every time something goes wrong, black people love saying it’s cause they black. They didn’t get a promotion, ’cause they black. They got fired, ’cause they black. They got turned down for the job, ’cause they black.  So-and-so said that, ’cause they black.  Everything bad happen ’cause they black. Black people love saying if you want to be their friend forget they black, but if you want to stay their friend remember they black.

No two black people can get together without the conversation turning to the fact they black and something bad happened because of it. They proud they black, they don’t have do nothing but stay black until they die, but shit always happening to them ’cause they black. They stubbed their toe ’cause they black. They fell down the stairs ’cause they black. They had a car accident ’cause they black. They caught the flu, ’cause they black.

Complaining about some shit happening to them ’cause they black, black people love that shit.

Black people love to hate stupid negros that are just plain embarrassing to themselves and every other black person on the planet.

From now on when black people are discussing dumb negros they love to hate, the name of Charles Ray Fuller will be mentioned. Charles Ray Fuller, as dumb as they come, is the Crowley, Texas man arrested on April 24th for trying to cash a $360,000,000 personal check at a Chase bank branch that he claims his momma or somebody gave him so he can start a record business. Mr. Crowley now resides in a Texas jail. They are probably going to bury his black ass under the jail much less keep it the jail - for being one stupid negro.

Stupid embarrasing negros, black people love to hate that shit.

Black people love naming their kids names they can’t remember how to spell or pronounce. Besides naming their kids after liquor - Chardonnay and Taquery - and cars - Mercedes and Lexus - you have the “niques”, like Shanique and Monique. Not to mention countries - Asia. Or African names with little understanding of spelling or meaning - Khalima. Or famous people - Denzel. Fifty years ago, it was presidents - Washington or Booker. How moi spells the names here matters little, since black people make up that shit anyway.

Black people apparently are not considering that little Shanique, LaKeisha, and Jamalis going to be 90 years old one day and is not going to become a CEO with those monikers. Guess whose resume is going in the round file? Yep, Roshawn’s and Roshanda’s. Black folks, you ain’t raising another Ophra. Your kids are black. Try to name them something that gives them a chance. Call them “boo” at home, but stop naming your kids after cars, liquor, and name brands, like Xerox.

Naming their kids some fucked up name they can’t even spell, black people love that shit.

On a Serious Tip:

Black Names a Resume Burden?

This is a little off topic, but then it could be called, black people love to hate swimming? Anyway a USAToday article caught my eye: Black Children are 3 Times More Likely to Drown. Sixy percent of black kids can’t swim, twice the number of little white kids.

Back in the day, the closest little black kids came to swimming, was illegally opening the fire hydrant on hot summer days. There was a pool at the park within walking distance though. If you could swim, you swam. If not, you kept your ass in the kiddie pool or in less than three feet of water.

Moi was sent to summer camp, but after almost drowning in the lake water, plus opening her eyes in the lake water and seeing some disgusting, scary shit (I’m not going to talk about the leech that was attached to moi’s toe) moi does not go into natural bodies of water. Moi can’t swim either and when wading into the ocean will not go more than two feet, less a sea monster get her or she is sucked in by the undertow. Moi got married in Jamaica and never so much as stuck her big toe in the water. Yours truly stayed on the beach or the hottub suckin’ down Bahama Mamas all day.

The white are always swimming, getting their hair wet and getting eaten by sharks. When’s the last time you read a story about some black person getting eaten by a shark? Never, that’s when. Or voluntarily getting their hair wet at the pool or beach? I don’t think so.

Getting their hair wet in some stank water, black people love to hate that shit.

On a Serious Tip:

Black Children Three Times as Likely to Drown

Black people love Red Lobster.  If it weren’t for black people, Red Lobster would go out of business.  How else can some overpriced fake seafood restaurant exist, if it weren’t for black people’s belief that overpriced, namebrand shit is the shiznit? 

Go to any Red Lobster on any Sunday and it’ll be full of black folks still dressed in their Sunday best chowing down on buttered lobster, buttered crab, and ‘Lobster’s famous cheesy (and greasy) buttered biscuits.  Just what an ethnic group that is prone to obesity, high blood pressure, heart disease, and high cholesterol needs.

Eating some overpriced, greasy seafood at a Red Lobster, black people love that shit. 

On A Serious Tip:

Black Health Issues

Black Health in the United States

Health Issues for Young Black People

Black people love getting pissed off at work.  Black people are always just about ready to slap somebody at their job. There is not a black person living right now - who actually has a job - that is not threatening to slap the taste out the mouth of somebody at work. 

Somebody is always getting on the nerves of some black person at the job.  It could be the chipper white guy who always has a fabulous weekend skiing, backpacking, or skydiving or volunteering at the local soup kitchen - in your neighborhood - that comes in on Monday morning and chirps, “So!? What did you do this weekend?!”  *You* just spent your weekend trying to get some g-damn heat in your raggedy-ass apartment.  Now you just want to slap him up side the head.  Or, that perky blond that told you, you look just like that black comedian on TV but she can’t remember his name - and you don’t look a damned thing like Dave Chappelle - plus you’re a girl! 

Maybe it’s Joe Blow in accounting who wants to compare his brand new tan against the color of your skin.  Oh Lawd, please just let me slap him now!  Maybe its Suzy who stole *your* promotion who told you that you are so articulate - just like Obama - but you’re a girl!  Or maybe that pompous tight-ass with the bad breath from the legal department who just told you that he never thinks of you as a black person.  And last but not least, the only one other black person in your department besides you, but ghet-to, from the get-go, who can’t stop talking ’bout how June Bug is getting out of in-car-cer-ra-tion and the big party she having for him at home!  Lawd, hep me, hep me, now, pleeze!

Whoever it is, whatever it is, black people are just about ready to slap the shit out of them. 

Slapping the shit outta somebody gettin’ on their nerves - at work - black people love that shit. 

On A Serious Tip:

Rates of Unemployment for Blacks

Black people hate that shit.  By now everyone knows that the New York cops that plugged the celebrating bridegroom with 50 shots the day before his wedding got off scott-free, just like the cops who plugged that African immigrant several years ago in New York.  The list of black men being killed by the cops is long and moi does not have to point out that if black cops were shooting little white boys as often as white cops are shooting little black boys something would have been done about that shit a long time ago.  

Moi spent the entire childhood of her one black male child worrying about and making sure he didn’t get shot by the cops. He came close though.  He was stopped once for jaywalking.  Yes, I said jaywalking.  Yours truly was awaken out of an afternoon nap by some cop calling wanting to know if her son had a tattoo on his hand.  Immediately thinking she was getting a call to identify his body she became alarmed and demanded to know why the cop was calling her about a tattoo and, no, he did not have a tattoo.  She demanded to know why in the hell the caller wasn’t identifying her son, a minor, and telling you where to get him, instead of calling her and alarming her with questions about a damned “tattoo” on his hand and if he were white the call would have been a different one at which point the caller got mad, said that wasn’t true, and hung up on her!!! 

Well come to find out, her son was picked up for jaywalking.  Yes, once again, I said jaywalking and seeing a “tattoo” that he and abused into his hand (He had defiled the perfect body moi had borned him with by taking an eraser and erasing the initials “TDK” into his hand.  TDK represented the initials of his two buddies and himself and the company, TDK ,that made audiotapes.) the immediate assumption by the white cops was that he was a gang member (not!).   Demanding to know exactly where he was, yours truly was directed to the corner near her home, where he and apparently a gang of outlaw citizens, minorities all, were being rounded up for jaywalking!  Moi gets there and while she’s talking to the cop, her son says, “Look, ma, they are letting white people go and only picking minorities.”  Moi lived in a very diverse community and, yep, only blacks, asians, and  hispanics were in the round up.  Turning back to the cop I asked if that were true.  Ever see an angry white man?  That is some crazy, scary shit.  Those people are insane.  There is insanity bubbling right under the psyche of white people and when it comes through watch out.  He went ballistic.  Eyes bulging, spittle flying out of his mouth, face contorted, he was spreading cracker crumbs every where.  This did not faze moi because she is known to let loose herself every now and then and she was not backing down.   

Long story short, moi, raised hell, demanded an apology and got the sargent calling her to apologize, whereupon she gave him a lecture on “profiling” a word not yet in use and not the word she used but what she meant.  She was offered a ridealong with the cops so I guess she could see the dangers they face and why they got to keep  ‘N down.  She said she wasn’t interested but pointed out every time *she* sends her baby boy to the store she has to worry about whether or not some cop looking for some vague black male that just knocked over liquor store doesn’t shoot her child and all the Al Sharptons in the world protesting wouldn’t be bringing her baby back - something, mind you, that white women do not worry about when they send their baby boys out into the world.  

Another point: One day when baby boy was younger she caught him going out to play with his little friends with a water gun in his hand.  Uh-uh, moi told him, oh no, not for you to climb over a fence or something playing cowboys and some white woman looks out the window and calls the cops because some huge burly negro is in her backyard and next thing I know you been shot by the cops.  Little black boy can’t even play cowboys and indians without their mommas worrying the cops going to shoot them.  Forget drivebys.

Getting shot by the cops, black people hate that shit. 

Black people love their mommas.  Mommas are big in the black community.   Mommas hold it all together in the black community.  They are the glue in the black family.  Yours truly was recently honored to attend a neighbor’s celebration of her momma’s 80th.  The entire party laying on hands to bless her brought tears to moi’s eyes.  They are Nigerian and Christian and it was a beautiful thing to see.  God bless her. 

Back in the day if you wanted to start a fight with a black person, just say “Your momma!” and an ass-whipping you would be a-gettin’.  ”Your momma” was fighting words for sure.  Black mommas endure a lot - poverty, food stamps, welfare, lack of education, and lack of monetary support.  Moi’s own momma raised four kids on $80 a week and pink slips from child suport court that notified her yet again that her ex-husband had not paid child support that week.  Moi knew that sometimes the cupboards were a little bare, but she didn’t know she was that damned po’ when she was growing up.  But that goes to show how black mommas can create some miracles. 

Back in the day yours truly did not understand white women’s dislike and disrepect for their mommas.  She couldn’t imagine not loving your momma with all your heart and keeping her at home and taking care of her when she is old and sick.  Black people do not cart their black mommas off to the old folk’s home to be neglected and mistreated, we keep our mommas at home with us, feeding them and, yes, washing their behinds like they did for us when we were babies.  And you haven’t come full circle until you have washed your momma’s behind and have to bury her.   Moi’s own momma is gone now, but she is alive her in memory and in her voice.

Black mommas black people love them.

Black women love hating white women who date black men. This is a reality that doesn’t bother moi as most of them that chase black men are fat and skanky anyway. However, for many black women this is quite disturbing.

Black women have been known to harrass the white woman by rolling their eyes at her, looking her up and down, whispering to their friends and pointing and laughing at her, or going up to the black man and giving him a nasty note that he can’t share with his white woman.

Black women tend to prefer black men to other races and feel that with the general black man shortage, white women need to stick with their own kind. Yours truly has been known to cross the color line herself a time or two and engage in a little jungle fever herself so she is quite ambivalent about this attitude. However, she understands and respects how some black women might feel. Moi likes to mind her own damned business so she could not care less, but to each her own.

Hating fat skanky white women who chase after black men, black women love that shit.

On A Serious Tip:

For those who are into a little jungle fever themselves: BlackandWhiteSingles.com

For Black Women, here’s something to really piss you off: WhiteWomenBlackMan.com