Who Is My Judge?

"Who is the JUDGE?
The judge is God.
Why is he GOD?
Because he decides who wins or loses, not my opponent.
Who is your OPPONENT?
He does not exist.
Why doesn't he EXIST?
Because he is a mere dissenting voice of the TRUTH I speak."

Ugh, this blog.  It's affecting me now.  Why do I blog anyways?  Whenever someone asks me that I never have a clear answer.  That's why I just don't tell anyone about it in the first place.  But I'm thinking that maybe this blog needs a makeover.  Maybe I have gotten off track.

I'm thinking that maybe I should just talk about easy shyt from now on.  Like my favorite songs or my favorite movies.  Or maybe talk about what I did at work or the strange people I see in the subway. You know simple shyt like that. 

 Or maybe I should talk about pink shyt - like dresses, perfume, or pretty jewelry. Cuz I'm a girl and that's what I'm supposed to talk about according to the double standard in this world.

(scratches head...thinking)


Now if I talk about safe shyt...like going to the gym or some guy I'm crushing on?  Would that be better?  I wonder how juicy could I make going to the gym sound so that it becomes a topic for discussion in cyberspace?  I'm there five days a week so I'm sure I could come up with something.


Or how about I hate that man and he did me so wrong shyt to get all the females to rally around me and send messages like, "Go girl" and "I been there chick"?  Cuz that's what we females do anyways...dog our men.  Nah, I couldn't do that because Black men are always putting us females on a pedestal!  They never talk about our bodies or our intelligence, or pass judgement on us based on little to no information.  Never.  We are automatic queens!  But if I did that, you know, talk about what I like and don't like in a man --- that would be blasphemy!  I'm really thinking about it though.  I should just write about what people expect me to write about.  Black men ain't shyt-shyt.  Because that's what I'm supposed to do. 

Ahhh now here's an idea!  Maybe I should babble about romantic shyt like wishing to be in love and how I pray that Prince Akeem is gonna come from Zamunda and rescue me one day!

That's when I will be happy and feel soooo much better about the world.  It would make sense because that's what all of us females are born and bred to wish for right?  Yeah that would be a good blog.  This story will be different though because instead of a white horse he'll pull up in a white Camaro to save me.  That way we both can have matching cars as we zoom down the Cross Bronx Expressway side by side.  Oooh now doesn't that sound just dreamy.... 


And then there's I wish wasn't broke shyt that I could discuss. But since I am pretty much debt free I don't have that problem anymore.  I have three streams of income now so it's not much to talk about there.  Oh well.  But I could make up some shyt though...


No wait!  I got it!  I should blog about impossible shyt like winning the lottery.  I think about that a lot anyway so if I blog and put those thoughts into the universe then maybe it just might happen for me!  Oooh, what will I do when I win?  Tomorrow is Ticket Tuesday anyway.  I play the Fo-Fi-Fo way.  Four tickets.  Four games.  Five dollars.  Throw in a couple of scratch offs too.  The guy at the store already knows me when I come in, so he prints the tickets and slaps them down on the counter all animated and what not.  BAM!  I worked really hard for it, but I'm finally a VIP customer at my local bodega.  I'm feeling kinda good about that.

"Hola mami, el mismo?"

"Si papi, si!  Sabes lo que quiero!"

I say all of this because if I talk about real shyt, I mean real shyt that seems to be...an issue????  It generates hateful shyt.  People get angry.  It's kinda crazy.  Is it because a female is the author and not a man?  I wonder would I get some mental high fives from male readers if I were a man writing about what I write about?  Would I get encouraging comments like, "That's why I fucks with you dawg.  You keep that shyt real."

(sings)

If I were a boy...

If I were a boy and blogged about sex and other things would that just be some boring shyt and not as interesting?  F*ck yeah it would be boring.  That's because talking about sex is man shyt.  They get an automatic pass to speak as freely as they like on the subject.

Dammit.  I guess I'm discovering that this blog is just not pink enough.  This writer is not pink and fluffy and sugary sweet enough!  I guess putting the little * in my curse words didn't give the blog quite enough of a 'girly' feeling either?  That's a bummer.  So even though I am a grown azz woman and have been thru enough shyt in my life to have earned the right to do what I want, and speak and tell what I want...I still have to be pink.  Like Pepto Bismol pink.  That way I will be more digestable to the masses and conform.

The double standard is alive and well, even in blogger world, and that's a shame.  So given that this is the case, why do I blog at all?  If I somehow have been made to feel uncomfortable about what I write then why blog.  Hmmm.  I'll think it over for a little bit.  It's kinda not being cool for me anymore. 

So maybe, just maybe I'll just...

(hears bumping and shyt dropping above)


Gotta move outta here.  I've had it with the Honeycomb Hideout.  I'm done.  I called the police on those azzes upstairs Saturday.  I had revelation this weekend that when you live in places with low rents, the mentality of the other tenants is probably gonna be low as well.  They are just some ignorant, inconsiderate muthafuccas.  Sick of this building.  Saw a Milk Dud crawling the other day too.  Arrgghhh.


The plan is to move March 15 or April 15 to move when it gets a little warmer.  Should I move into the city this time?  My eyes widen just thinking about it.  I hate to pack again though.  Damn.  I really think I'm gonna pay someone to do it.  Last the few times I had packers they finished sooo fast.  It will take me days or weeks if I do it.  It takes them just a few hours.  But I'm sure when I call and get the price for it I'll get slapped back into reality. 


Hmmm...that might be a good business --- packing people's stuff?  Then I could blog about other people's shyt. 


On the real, I thought this was MY BLOG where I could talk about MY SHYT.  A place where I could be free and easy and say what I want, when I want without concern for anyone else.  Where I could be pink, or fiery red, or sad blue, or ambitious green - anytime I got ready. But it doesn't feel like that anymore for some reason.  I'm mind tripping.  Too caught up in dumb links to other places and followers and comments and visitors and bullshyt like that.  So I think...I'll just talk about safe shyt here. 

"I'm not here for your entertainment.
You don't really wanna mess with me tonight."

Maybe safe shyt will get these male cyber-weirdo lames to stop sniffing in my blog's ass.  Cuz they seem to really like the smell.  For real doe. 

 "Who is your OPPONENT?
He does not exist.
Why doesn't he EXIST?
Because he is a mere dissenting voice of the TRUTH I speak."