Friday, October 28, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Jahessye Shockley Is 5 Years Old, Missing and Black: Where is Her Prime Time National News Coverage?
Jerice Hunter told police she left her three older children in charge of her 5-year-old daughter, Jahessye (JES’-ee) Shockley, before leaving her Glendale, Ariz., home on Oct. 11 to run errands. Hunter said she locked the door when she left, and when she returned the door was unlocked and Jahessye was gone. There has been no trace found of the little girl.
Jahessye’s family members have said that they don’t believe police have given her disappearance enough attention because she’s black and her parents have a criminal history — a history that includes a conviction on child abuse charges. Jahessye’s mother served time for a 2005 charge and the child’s father, George Shockley, a convicted sex offender, is currently in prison for charges related to Hunter’s conviction. Police in Arizona say Hunter is not a suspect in her daughter’s disappearance.
“We feel that law enforcement is not active in finding Jahessye and that they’re more active in persecuting me instead of finding out where she is,” Hunter said.
In the nearly two weeks since Jahessye disappeared, another missing child’s story, that of “baby Lisa” has been front and center on every prime time news channel in America. Photos, home video and on-air discussions about what happened to baby Lisa, why her mother failed a lie detector test, and whether a stranger seen in the area may have abducted the child, continue to flash across the screens of televisions in homes around the country. Baby Lisa’s story is a daily fixture on CNN’s “Nancy Grace” show, and Anderson Cooper has taken time out of his broadcast to discuss the case.
The most obvious difference between the two cases? Baby Lisa Irwin is white. Jahessye Shockley is black.
Paul Penzone, a retired Phoenix police sergeant and child advocate, says he asked producers of the CNN “Nancy Grace” show to highlight little Jahessye ‘s story and had not heard anything, although, on Oct. 21, CNN did mention Jahessye’s disappearance. Penzone said there is massive local coverage and he hoped national coverage would help authorities find clues to Jahessye’s whereabouts.
Jahessye’s grandmother, Shirley Johnson, traveled to the state capitol in Phoenix, Arizona wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Grandma won’t stop!”
“The Glendale Police Department has not brought this to the forefront. They botched this investigation,” Johnson told reporters. “I believe it’s because she’s a little black girl.”
Jerice Hunter urged whoever has her daughter to please drop her off someplace safe, saying, “Please bring my baby back home … She’s scared. She’s scared. Please, I know she’s scared.”
The new issue of People is currently on stands all over America with blue-eyed Baby Lisa on the cover. Some Internet speculators are excusing the media’s apparent lack of concern for Jahessye by implying that the child’s mother is somehow responsible for her disappearance, and that Hunter knows where Jahessye is. Even if that were a legitimate excuse for ignoring this little girl’s plight, how do they explain the years of attention America paid to little Casey Anthony’s case?
In 2008 a veteran law-enforcement official established Black and Missing, Inc (BAM), a non-profit organization whose mission is to bring awareness to missing persons of color; provide vital resources and tools to missing person’s families and friends and to educate the minority community on personal safety.
As long as missing black children continue to receive a minimum of concern from the media, organizations like BAM are necessary to help meet the needs of anguished family members. –kathleen cross
Cited here: Rolling Out
Jahessye’s family members have said that they don’t believe police have given her disappearance enough attention because she’s black and her parents have a criminal history — a history that includes a conviction on child abuse charges. Jahessye’s mother served time for a 2005 charge and the child’s father, George Shockley, a convicted sex offender, is currently in prison for charges related to Hunter’s conviction. Police in Arizona say Hunter is not a suspect in her daughter’s disappearance.
“We feel that law enforcement is not active in finding Jahessye and that they’re more active in persecuting me instead of finding out where she is,” Hunter said.
In the nearly two weeks since Jahessye disappeared, another missing child’s story, that of “baby Lisa” has been front and center on every prime time news channel in America. Photos, home video and on-air discussions about what happened to baby Lisa, why her mother failed a lie detector test, and whether a stranger seen in the area may have abducted the child, continue to flash across the screens of televisions in homes around the country. Baby Lisa’s story is a daily fixture on CNN’s “Nancy Grace” show, and Anderson Cooper has taken time out of his broadcast to discuss the case.
The most obvious difference between the two cases? Baby Lisa Irwin is white. Jahessye Shockley is black.
Paul Penzone, a retired Phoenix police sergeant and child advocate, says he asked producers of the CNN “Nancy Grace” show to highlight little Jahessye ‘s story and had not heard anything, although, on Oct. 21, CNN did mention Jahessye’s disappearance. Penzone said there is massive local coverage and he hoped national coverage would help authorities find clues to Jahessye’s whereabouts.
Jahessye’s grandmother, Shirley Johnson, traveled to the state capitol in Phoenix, Arizona wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Grandma won’t stop!”
“The Glendale Police Department has not brought this to the forefront. They botched this investigation,” Johnson told reporters. “I believe it’s because she’s a little black girl.”
Jerice Hunter urged whoever has her daughter to please drop her off someplace safe, saying, “Please bring my baby back home … She’s scared. She’s scared. Please, I know she’s scared.”
The new issue of People is currently on stands all over America with blue-eyed Baby Lisa on the cover. Some Internet speculators are excusing the media’s apparent lack of concern for Jahessye by implying that the child’s mother is somehow responsible for her disappearance, and that Hunter knows where Jahessye is. Even if that were a legitimate excuse for ignoring this little girl’s plight, how do they explain the years of attention America paid to little Casey Anthony’s case?
In 2008 a veteran law-enforcement official established Black and Missing, Inc (BAM), a non-profit organization whose mission is to bring awareness to missing persons of color; provide vital resources and tools to missing person’s families and friends and to educate the minority community on personal safety.
As long as missing black children continue to receive a minimum of concern from the media, organizations like BAM are necessary to help meet the needs of anguished family members. –kathleen cross
Cited here: Rolling Out
5 Days in Jail for Innocent Black Woman Shot by Stray Bullet: ‘They Wanted Me to Lie’
Takesha Griffin, 35, said she was handcuffed to a bench in the squad room, then locked in a filthy holding cell at the 73rd Precinct in Brooklyn, N.Y.
Officers repeatedly asked the injured woman if she was ready to “cough up the real story” about how she got shot.
“They wanted me to lie,” said Griffin, whose lawyer filed a $5 million lawsuit against the city. “It was like ‘The Twilight Zone.’ “
The single mother of a 9-year-old boy said she was given a McDonald’s hamburger each day and ridiculed when she complained about the food. During her confinement, Griffin said she urinated on herself when no one was available to escort her to the bathroom. She was also denied a sanitary napkin.
“Who treats people this way?” Griffin said. “It’s inhumane.”
On her second day in the stationhouse, cops suggested she “change her story” if she wanted to leave.
“A police officer saw me still sitting there and said, ‘Did your story change yet? I guess you like it here,’ ” she said.
Griffin said she was shot on Sept. 3 as she was getting out of a male friend’s vehicle near her apartment in Brownsville, N.Y. She heard a noise and felt a burning sensation on her right thigh and noticed a spot on her leg where her tights bunched up into a hole. Pulling the bunched-up fabric, she saw a bullet pop out, followed by spurting blood.
Griffin’s friend drove her to Brookdale University Hospital. Hospital staff saw the wound and called police. Detectives suspected she had been shot during a lovers’ quarrel with her friend.
“He never had a gun,” she said. “I told them he was gay; we had gone to a gay club the night before.”
The friend offered to take a lie detector test and submit to a gunshot residue test on his hands, she said. He was released that morning; she was held.
Read more at NY Daily News.
Cited here: Rolling Out
Officers repeatedly asked the injured woman if she was ready to “cough up the real story” about how she got shot.
“They wanted me to lie,” said Griffin, whose lawyer filed a $5 million lawsuit against the city. “It was like ‘The Twilight Zone.’ “
The single mother of a 9-year-old boy said she was given a McDonald’s hamburger each day and ridiculed when she complained about the food. During her confinement, Griffin said she urinated on herself when no one was available to escort her to the bathroom. She was also denied a sanitary napkin.
“Who treats people this way?” Griffin said. “It’s inhumane.”
On her second day in the stationhouse, cops suggested she “change her story” if she wanted to leave.
“A police officer saw me still sitting there and said, ‘Did your story change yet? I guess you like it here,’ ” she said.
Griffin said she was shot on Sept. 3 as she was getting out of a male friend’s vehicle near her apartment in Brownsville, N.Y. She heard a noise and felt a burning sensation on her right thigh and noticed a spot on her leg where her tights bunched up into a hole. Pulling the bunched-up fabric, she saw a bullet pop out, followed by spurting blood.
Griffin’s friend drove her to Brookdale University Hospital. Hospital staff saw the wound and called police. Detectives suspected she had been shot during a lovers’ quarrel with her friend.
“He never had a gun,” she said. “I told them he was gay; we had gone to a gay club the night before.”
The friend offered to take a lie detector test and submit to a gunshot residue test on his hands, she said. He was released that morning; she was held.
Read more at NY Daily News.
Cited here: Rolling Out
WTH: Man Loses Parole for Using Cellphone to Call Family About Being Paroled
Dwayne Kennedy landed in prison — and rightly so — after throwing a man from a moving car in 1988. However, he was recently deemed eligible for parole, despite a history of violent crimes. Kennedy lost said parole for using a cellphone to call his family to tell them he’d been paroled.
That’s right, California prison officials are keeping Kennedy locked up for an extra five years at a cost of approximately $250,000 taxpayer dollars because guards caught him with a contraband cellphone. He said he borrowed the phone to inform his family that he had just been granted parole and was coming home.
In theory, he did not technically get five more years for using the cellphone. Authorities said that he violated the terms and conditions of his parole for using what was considered contraband. Now he will have to serve an additional five years before getting another chance to request parole again.
Cellphones are popular in prisons across the nation. Inmates not only use them to make personal calls, but also to continue to control and run criminal operations, intimidate witnesses, and order violent attacks on the outside. California Gov. Jerry Brown signed a bill on Oct. 6 making it a misdemeanor punishable by up to six months in a county jail.
Under the new law, inmates caught with cellphones face losing 90 days of credit earned for good behavior. In Kennedy’s case, using the cellphone lengthened his prison stay because a 2008 ballot measure extended the time inmates serving life sentences must wait for a new hearing when they are denied parole or their parole offer is revoked. –torrance stephens
Cited here: Rolling Out
That’s right, California prison officials are keeping Kennedy locked up for an extra five years at a cost of approximately $250,000 taxpayer dollars because guards caught him with a contraband cellphone. He said he borrowed the phone to inform his family that he had just been granted parole and was coming home.
In theory, he did not technically get five more years for using the cellphone. Authorities said that he violated the terms and conditions of his parole for using what was considered contraband. Now he will have to serve an additional five years before getting another chance to request parole again.
Cellphones are popular in prisons across the nation. Inmates not only use them to make personal calls, but also to continue to control and run criminal operations, intimidate witnesses, and order violent attacks on the outside. California Gov. Jerry Brown signed a bill on Oct. 6 making it a misdemeanor punishable by up to six months in a county jail.
Under the new law, inmates caught with cellphones face losing 90 days of credit earned for good behavior. In Kennedy’s case, using the cellphone lengthened his prison stay because a 2008 ballot measure extended the time inmates serving life sentences must wait for a new hearing when they are denied parole or their parole offer is revoked. –torrance stephens
Cited here: Rolling Out
Dr. Drew Declines Black Woman’s On-Camera Offer to Perform Dangerous Sexual Fetish on Him
A woman calling herself “Massive Mocha,” appeared on Dr. Drew Pinsky’s television show to discuss a sexual fetish technique called “squashing” that literally leaves men breathless.
The morbidly obese guest told the doctor that men ask her to sit on “their face, chest area whatever part they want” until they feel they are going to pass out. The squashed man will then tap her to let her know when she should get off of them.
Massive Mocha said, “I like to make them suffer a little longer, so I’ll stay on there.”
The woman told Pinsky it works in chairs as well, and asked, “Do you want me to try it?”
“No, I’m good.” Drew responded politely. “I’m good.”
The audience laughed and everyone seemed to get a big kick out of this woman’s odd pastime, but I couldn’t help but think what if she doesn’t get up in time? Could she be prosecuted for murder or manslaughter if she didn’t get off a squashee before they suffocated — and she was unable to resuscitate them?
Cited here: Rolling Out
The morbidly obese guest told the doctor that men ask her to sit on “their face, chest area whatever part they want” until they feel they are going to pass out. The squashed man will then tap her to let her know when she should get off of them.
Massive Mocha said, “I like to make them suffer a little longer, so I’ll stay on there.”
The woman told Pinsky it works in chairs as well, and asked, “Do you want me to try it?”
“No, I’m good.” Drew responded politely. “I’m good.”
The audience laughed and everyone seemed to get a big kick out of this woman’s odd pastime, but I couldn’t help but think what if she doesn’t get up in time? Could she be prosecuted for murder or manslaughter if she didn’t get off a squashee before they suffocated — and she was unable to resuscitate them?
Cited here: Rolling Out
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Chuck Norris Loves My Novel! :-)
Chuck Norris read my novel. After he read my novel, I asked him what his thoughts were and this is what happened:
Bossladywriter
Bossladywriter
Look Out Naysayers! FLAP!
This what happens when you hurl negativity at people who are above you. lol
Monday, October 24, 2011
What's Brand Spanking New?!
Greetings International fans,
Purchase my novel, "Ebony the Beloved." It is making epic waves and I'm sure none of you want to over look a page turner. And potential stage play and/or movie. So, if many of you can read and survive my first book, you can SURELY read and survive my second book, which is going to be riddled with controversy. LOL! How many of you think you're ready for "The Bold and The Ugly Truth" LOL!!!!!! Because I am! YAS! It will be released next year! In the interim, check out my first novel, "Ebony the Beloved" it's like no other! :)
Bossladywriter
Purchase my novel, "Ebony the Beloved." It is making epic waves and I'm sure none of you want to over look a page turner. And potential stage play and/or movie. So, if many of you can read and survive my first book, you can SURELY read and survive my second book, which is going to be riddled with controversy. LOL! How many of you think you're ready for "The Bold and The Ugly Truth" LOL!!!!!! Because I am! YAS! It will be released next year! In the interim, check out my first novel, "Ebony the Beloved" it's like no other! :)
Bossladywriter
Friday, October 21, 2011
Let Ebony be Your Inspiration
Synopsis
Ebony has been condemned and rejected by her parents and peers all of her life. Like many other black girls who grew up weary to face life, she struggles with the adversities of being impoverished and accepted for who she is. After being mentally, emotionally and sexually abused, Ebony still struggles to fight her way to the top, never fully realizing what her worth is until she finds love and acceptance from one of the faculty members at her school. From that point on, things began to blossom for her until she meets a smooth operator named, Desmond Waltz.
Desmond is a world renowned entertainer who takes a sudden romantic interest in Ebony. His hidden sadistic and sexually devious desires for her erupt into rage, abuse, and imprisonment. Not only is Ebony’s world turned upside down, but she has to deal with Desmond’s desire to see her suffer under his thumb, but she is also subjected to his domineering mother, who hates her and abuses her every time she gets, leaving Ebony beaten and bloody and begging for the pain to stop.
Ebony has been condemned and rejected by her parents and peers all of her life. Like many other black girls who grew up weary to face life, she struggles with the adversities of being impoverished and accepted for who she is. After being mentally, emotionally and sexually abused, Ebony still struggles to fight her way to the top, never fully realizing what her worth is until she finds love and acceptance from one of the faculty members at her school. From that point on, things began to blossom for her until she meets a smooth operator named, Desmond Waltz.
Desmond is a world renowned entertainer who takes a sudden romantic interest in Ebony. His hidden sadistic and sexually devious desires for her erupt into rage, abuse, and imprisonment. Not only is Ebony’s world turned upside down, but she has to deal with Desmond’s desire to see her suffer under his thumb, but she is also subjected to his domineering mother, who hates her and abuses her every time she gets, leaving Ebony beaten and bloody and begging for the pain to stop.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Lloyd has, is, and will ALWAYS be the bigger man! Perv Fatti Can Eat a Mud Casserole
Lloyd Responds To Irv Gotti's Comments: "He's Just Mad"
In response to Irv Gotti's recent negative comments, R&B singer Lloyd had a few things to say about his former Murder Inc. boss.
"I have no problems with nobody," Lloyd said on Shade 45′s Sway In the Morning .
"That's definitely one man's opinions about the situation. And I'm just thankful that his opinions don't dictate my future."
"His grouches is his grouches and I have none... He's just mad, he's upset. People say weird sh*t when they're mad."
Listen to Lloyd's full response below and if you missed it, you can catch what Irv Gotti's rant about Lloyd
Listen to the audio here: Hip Hop Wired
In response to Irv Gotti's recent negative comments, R&B singer Lloyd had a few things to say about his former Murder Inc. boss.
"I have no problems with nobody," Lloyd said on Shade 45′s Sway In the Morning .
"That's definitely one man's opinions about the situation. And I'm just thankful that his opinions don't dictate my future."
"His grouches is his grouches and I have none... He's just mad, he's upset. People say weird sh*t when they're mad."
Listen to Lloyd's full response below and if you missed it, you can catch what Irv Gotti's rant about Lloyd
Listen to the audio here: Hip Hop Wired
Unedited Except from my 4th ebook "Perspectives"
Frederick Brooks
Hey, guys my name is Freddy Brooks and I like to read and write books. I may not
be known for my good looks, but I sure know how to cook. Cheesy, much?
Well, I’m not much of a poet, but my heart is bigger than the state
of Texas. I’m an albino best-selling author who owns a mansion in
Baldwin Hills. My silver Lamborghini compliments my house along with
my manicured lawn and tropical palm trees. I’ve written ten Street-Lit
novels that have made The New York Time’s Best Seller’s list.
Each of them sat on the list for many consecutive weeks. I am blessed to
have a staunch fan base along with a stellar writing career. But I can’t
take all the credit for my success. I owe my career to my late grandfather.
He was my biggest cheer leader and he gave me an out pour of his love
and support. He always pushed me to reach for the sky, because
he knew I would become a star someday. I believe he foresaw
my future before I was a twinkle in my mother’s eyes. He treated
me like precious cargo. Not because of my albinism, but because
of my raw natural talent. He raised me and my twin brother, Roderick
all by his lonesome. My brother was born with pigmentation except
for me. When we were youngsters, he used to swear we were not
related because he had a fudge brownie complexion compared to
my snow man complexion. He didn’t treat me like his blood brother.
He treated me more like a foster brother. If it wasn’t for my grandfather’s
unconditional love and support, I don’t know where I’d end up, because
that man’s love filled many hearts. His love was plentiful enough
to stretch from my our little mule town all the way to Kingdom come.
Sir Cleofus Redding Sr
Cleofus Redding Sr was my grandfather’s name. My father was Cleofus Redding
Jr, but he dishonored my grandfather’s name by pimping women including my
mother, Chardonnay. My father was a low-life pimp who treated his fire bird
better than he treated his staple of whores. That Cad slipped up and
impregnated one of his doxies who later gave birth to me and my twin brother.
I learned that my mother’s name was Chardonnay Henson. She was a seventeen
year old run-away from The Town of Water Frog Creek. She was a habitual
drug user and drug abuser, but she was mostly an alcoholic. When
my father recruited my mother as one of his whores, she had more alcohol
inside of her than a distillery. Since she was so loyal to him, she graduated
from being his bottom feeders to becoming one of his bottom bitches.
I never understood why people conflated the two, because anyone at the
bottom was no higher than a midget’s knee caps. To me, if a woman
blankets herself as a bottom bitch, she unknowingly reduced her worth.
She’s a new resident of what I like to call—“The Lowest Common
Denominator” Community. It’s a place where sewer rats, swamp roaches,
and junk yard snakes roam freely. Anyone who flaunts this fucked up
mentality has defecated and urinated on their own dignity, honor,
self worth, and flushed it down the toilet. My mother was no different.
The difference was, she let my father do most of the honors. When she
discovered she was pregnant with us, she continued turning tricks like it
wasn’t god’s business. My brother and I weren’t born in the hospital.
We were born in the back of one of her Trick’s car. When my
grandfather caught wind of his son’s whores giving birth to me
and Roderick, he became our acting parent and guardian angel.
He singled handedly sequestered my parent’s custodial rights
and dared them to blink the wrong way. My parents couldn’t
prove they were fit parents; therefore, they couldn’t waver. Except,
forfeit their title as our parents and give it to someone who was fit
to fill their slot. My father slammed more doors and pimped more
whores longer than Lucille’s Bar had tiled floors. Lucille’s Bar was
a hole in the wall where all the head knockers, whores, and
whore mongers mingled to collect tricks and prospect recruits.
Lucille was the owner of the bar and she was built like an ox.
She had rubbery skin and her mouth was bald as the day
she was born. She cussed like an intoxicated truck driver
and she kept her doubled barreled shot gun by her side in
case the crowd got rowdy. It was rumored that she had a
few bedrooms located in the posterior of the bar. They were
reserved for whores, tricks, and pimps to do their business. My
father and mother were her regular patrons. Especially, my mother
because it was where she drowned herself in booze while scavenging
for tricks. Lucille’s bar was an animal house. She ran that shoddy shack
for forty years until a cyclone swallowed it up and regurgitated what was left
of it. After Lucille lost her business, she lost her sanity too. She deep throated
her shot gun and blew her brains out. The shocking news about her tragic
death permeated faster than the swine flu. The only people who were
devastated were her loyal customers. Otherwise, the overly sensitive
church goers were the ones who ripped her name to shreds. Since her
death was so gruesome and horrific, she had to have a closed casket funeral.
My parents went to pay their respects to her, but my grandfather made me and
Roderick stay in the house. I remembered he said, “Ya’ll won’t be
dragging my grand kids to that battle ax’s funeral. She’s a disgrace to
the human race and she’ll be shoving coal in hell with Satan!” He shook his fist.
“Pops, ease up on ole Lucille. She wasn’t perfect, but she was like
a mother to me. I know you didn’t like her when she was alive,
but the least thing you can do is respect in her death. She’s been
through a lot and could no longer bare the pain. She gave the shoes
off her feet to the people she cared about. And I’m not going to sit
here and listen to you trash her existence, because I hear enough
of that shit from those two bit hypocritical church niggas you hang
with,” my father remarked. My grandfather sardonically chuckled
at my father’s idiocy. My father painted a rosy portrait of Lucille like she
was an angelic saint. She mind as well have sprouted a tail
and wield a pitch fork. “Let me tell you something. You better not
ever disrespect your mother’s honor for the likes of that
low-life sow cow, Lucille. That den of shame she ran had more sin
crawling around it than you could shake a stick at it. I hope Satan
sticks his pitch fork up her porky ass until she explodes into ashes.
You and Chardonnay mind as well lay in the casket beside her and
join her in hell!” My grandfather snarled and shook his fist.
My father threw his hands up in mid air. “I’m going to the funeral.”
“You and Chardonnay better not bring your sorry asses back to my
house again. I don’t want your sinful ways rubbing off on my grandkids!”
My father angrily slammed the door causing the picture to fall off the wall
and it’s glass to break. It was a picture of our beloved grandmother.
I never had the opportunity to meet my grandmother, but my grandfather
said she was a loving soul who spread her love like the infamous Forest fire in
Snake Lake County. From that point on, my parents didn’t visit my grandfather’s
house anymore. I heard through the grape vine, that my father was scooped
up by the police and my mother disappeared without a trace. Her remains
were later discovered near an embankment and he was genetically tied
to her murder. My father was flung in jail and wasted away by the
second. My heart wouldn’t let me shed a tear for him or my mother,
because my brother and I were unplanned accidents. My dad was
no different from the slave master. He owned her body, robbed her
of the little dignity she had, and murdered her. Even though
my mother was young when she met my father, she stood firmly
by my father’s side for years. She was spineless and cowardly.
If I had a choice between blaming my father and mother, I would
blame my mother, because she was more culpable for her own
down falls than he was. Plus, my parents loved Roderick more
than they loved me. My father told me I was cursed by the
white man and that I should be quarantined in my bedroom.
Man, those words sunk my heart like the Titanic. My mother said,
my whiteness scared the hair on top of her head. That was why they
mostly asked to see Roderick. When my grandfather gave them a
good tongue whipping, they hardly ever showed up. That was when
my love for my grandfather soared through the roof while my
love for my parents crashed and burned.
Outcast
As a kid, I was a target for public humiliation. Throughout elementary and
middle school, kids heckled me from head to toe. I’ve been called every
name beyond the book. People acted as if my albinism was a contagious disease.
My brother renounced and denounced me in front of his cohorts. He treated
me worse than those bullies. He was the cool popular guy and I was the
albino outcast. If people knew that he and I were brothers, his popularity
would have dropped faster than a whore’s panties on Sunday. Every day
before we went to school, he reminded me to stay out of his way. “Fred,
I have a reputation to maintain. So, I’m going to need you to stay far
the hell away from me as much as possible.” He saw the hurt in my eyes.
And I could tell his cruelty chipped away at his heart a little. “Um,
listen. You and I can play video games after school.” Then he would
justify his churlish behavior by saying, “If people see me in public
with you, they would eye ball us like circus animals. Especially,
you because they’re not used to seeing someone like you. They’ll
laugh at you and jab you with insults. And you know I would never
let that happen.” But when we were in school, he and clown his ass
friends would taunt me relentlessly. “Yo, White out,” one of his friends
shouted. I ignored him and kept my pace. “My Social Studies
teacher gave me an F on my history paper. And I’m going to need
to use some of your color to whiten it out so I can change it to an A.
He and the crowd exploded with laughter. My brother made it
worse by inserting his measly two cents, “Speaking of white
out, the school can use his colors to whiten out the graffiti on
these walls. His opprobrious comments seared a hole in my heart.
He killed my spirit and left me feeling like an empty hollow shell.
During those awful times, I poured my heart and soul into
the stories I wrote. I identified with the characters I talked about
and the stories carried my mind to a totally different world.
My English teacher, Mrs. Firehouse was the first one who
encouraged me to submit my work to a few short story contests. When I did that,
I earned certificates and trophies across the board. My grandfather’s
walls were covered with all of my awards. He was the one who
instilled me with the go-getter attitude I have today. I stroked
my pen until my hands went numb. My love
for writing was so strong, it segued into a lucrative career.
During my high school days, I published short stories
in the school’s newspaper and I earned a reputation for
myself. I formed friendships with kids who were less
judgmental and more receptive. Girls wouldn’t give me any
play until I met a girl named Bridgette Polite. She was a
creole cutie with a bodacious booty. Her pants kissed
and hugged her fat ass so hard, if she sneezed,
they would split in half. Every corner she turned, heads
craned, chatters paused, and tongues wagged. She had
rhythm in her walk and talk. And she was never off beat.
My friend Cory, who shared the same homeroom with me
nudged me on the shoulders. “Dude, check out the body
on that shorty.” I returned his response with a shrug. “She’s
alright.” I acted like she wasn’t all that, because I didn’t
want to appear like the rest of those ravenous guys who
wanted a taste of her. She was pretty but she was out of
my limits. “Dude, she’s more than alright. She’s a goddess.
Every dude wants to tap that ass. Word on the street is, she’s got
a wicked pussy. Wicked enough to make a man change his
religion.” “Damn, it’s no wonder she’s got guys drooling over her.”
Bridgette was an eye candy, but I didn’t know what to do with
a girl like her. She was a seasoned temptress and her vagina
was like a urinal, it was opened to the public. Besides, I didn’t know
anything about women; furthermore, it would have been difficult
warding off those horny howling wolves. “Man, if I had a chick like
her, I would give her the world.” Cory’s eyes were so moony, he
looked like an Anime. I couldn’t resist laughing at his cheesy
ass. “Cory, what more can you give her besides, your
telescope, Derek Jeter baseball cards, and trust fund. The
only thing she’ll use is your trust fund to finance her
wardrobe. And we both know that’s barely enough to buy acres
of land, let alone the whole world.” He and I both laughed.
“Well, can a man like me fantasize?” Corey quizzed. “Sure, because
that’s the closest you’ll ever get to being with her.” I guffawed.
“Yeah, whatever. You can front like you’re not interested, but
you know you want to hit it as much as I do.” “Humph, she’s
cute, but she’s got some miles on her. I want a girl who’s
never been ridden or test driven, catch my drift?” “Yeah, but can you
think of a beautiful girl who’s speedometer is zero these days?
Let’s be real about it. The only virgins that are left, are the
ugly girls. Even a corny dweeb like me wouldn’t stick my pencil
in their sharpener.” “Wow, that’s cold. Everyone deserves love,
Cory.” “You should tell that to the ones who won’t sleep with them.”
I shook my head at his cold remarks. But I had to put up a fight.
“What about Sadie Funston. She’s pretty, smart, and she’s quiet,” I said.
“Sadie Funston?” Cory mocked. “Sadie Funston is a sweet nerdy girl by
day, but she’s a street walker by night!” “What! Not Sadie “Good girl”
Funston. This can’t be the same Sadie we’re talking about. Because
the Sadie I know has a good head on her shoulders.” Cory chuckled at me.
“She’s got a good head alright, because she’s giving it to every man on her
block. The quiet ones always have a hidden skeleton.” Cory’s shocking
revelation about Sadie Funston did a number on my heart. I never expected
someone like Sadie to minimize her worth. I used to have a secret crush
on her when we were in third grade. She was a shy and quiet girl then.
But she became a Jezebel who milled in the same “Lowest Common
Denominator” circle with my mother, father, Lucille, the pimps, the
prostitutes, pushers, hustlers and Bridgette. Her life was tumbling
down a hill and not even a big rock could stop it. The only thing that could
stop it was the death pit called, “Hell” because that’s where she was headed.
I sucked in some air, exhaled, and continued our discourse.
“What does it say about Bridgette then,” “What about her?”
Cory asked with a confounded look on his face. “It means Bridgette is
a whore knob. Everyone gets a turn too.” “Yes, but Bridgette is
popular, she’s sexy, and she carries herself with class.” Cory was
intelligent, but that moment, he sounded like every man who’s brain
cells plunged all the way to his dick. I wanted to bitch smack the
stupidity out of him. Instead, I approached the subject with
tact. “Bridgette is a whore. And there’s no such thing is a classy
whore. She uses her body to seduce men and once they’re hooked,
she reels them in. Her throat and vagina have a few things in
common-They’re wide and slippery enough to make an easy
entrance.” Damn, that’s cold, Fred.” “It’s not cold. It’s the truth,”
I remarked.” “So, don’t go putting her diseased ridden vagina
on a pedestal when she’s got a sea of random tadpoles swimming
in her gut like Sadie. They’re both accountable for their whorish
behavior; therefore they should assume the position. I had no
sympathy for the likes of Sadie and Bridgette. Girls like them
clamored for love and attention all day. They dropped
their panties along with their dignity to get that so-called
reciprocated love. If they believed those men who used
them, loved them, they were more dumber than I gave
them credit for. I surmise the apathy I had, stemmed from
watching my mother make a fool out of herself over the years.
She didn’t give a damn and if she would have been a
better mother, she’d still have my respect and most of all-
her life. I refocused my eyes on Bridgette and I watched her
accost my brother (who was on the foot ball team). I watched
him smell himself like he was the shit. And he was the shit, literally!
Grandfathers Know Best
Bridgette managed to suck my brother into her web of deceit.
Whatever she had under her tight ass blouse sleeves, it was destined
to rear its’ ugly head. Being a star writer earned me friends, but
no girlfriends. Roderick used my small fame to his advantage by
getting me to write love letters for his slew of girlfriends.
He didn’t tell people we were related, but he hung out with me
in public. We were doing homework in our bedroom, when he
he broached the subject about his new piece of ass-Bridgette.
“Yo, did you see Bridgette Polite. Shorty is bad?” I knew he
was using her name as bait to coax me into being his love
letter ghost writer again. I knew he was going to ask me
so I beat him to it instead. “You want me to write the love
letter, right?” He was slightly caught off guard, but he
smiled. “Right!” he said with overt excitement in his voice.
I have never seen him so happy about any girl. He was
only dating the girl for a week and she had his nose opened
wider than I-35’s belt way. I don’t know why I didn’t tell
him what I heard about her, because I thought he knew, but
still didn’t give a damn. “I like Bridgette a lot. She’s beautiful,
sexy, smart, and funny.” It was foreign of him to tell me about
Bridgette, because he never told me about any of his other
girlfriends. He continued, “I can’t wait to pop the big question
to her.” “Big question? You’re going to marry the girl!” Roderick
sucked his teeth and said, “Naw, man I’m going to ask her to be
my girlfriend.” Man, that was a relief. Roderick had a way with
the ladies, but he and Bridgette were in the same realm. They
were equally attractive and promiscuous. I wondered if they
were aware of each other’s reputation. I knew he was out of his
mind for assuming exclusivity with the likes of Bridgette,
vice versa. The arrangement they had should have been
more like a, “Wham Bam Thank You Ma’am.” He was
growing serious when he hardly knew the girl. Roderick
was a far cry from perfect, but Bridgette was a recipe for
calamity. Something about her presence disturbed my bowels.
I was bound to find the hell out though. “When do you
need the love letter completed?” I asked. “I need it finished
before the homecoming dance for next week.” “Ok.”
“Thanks, man. You don’t know how much this means to
me. Matter of fact, here’s ten bucks.” He placed the crisp
ten dollar bill in the palm of my hands. I normally
didn’t charge for my writing but the newly printed
ten dollar bill gave me an epiphany. Since this desperate
fool was willing to compensate me for writing mushy
love letters for him, I figured I could turn my writing
hobby into a business. Anyone who needed their paper written,
had to pay me generously for my services. I couldn’t wait to
tell my grandfather about my latest venture. He was a terrific
listener and he gave the best advices. “Hey gramps” “Hey son,
how was school today?” “School was great as usual.
We didn’t get much homework and my History teacher gave
us a pop quiz. It was really easy,” I said while going to the
refrigerator to grab an apple. “How’s your writing coming
along?” My grandfather inquired. “It was great.
Matter of fact, I think I’m going to charge people who needs
their paper written. I know a lot of students who don’t like
writing their papers. So, I figure if they pay me to write it for them,
I’ll cash in and I’ll make a decent little income on the side,” I cheesed.
My father gave me a pointed look. He slid his reading glasses to
the tip of his nose and cleared his throat . I knew what that look
meant. It meant he was going to reprimand me until his tongue got
tired. I gave him a defeated look and found the nearest chair I
could find. I flopped on the couch like a drunken fat man on pay day.
“Frederick, you’re a smart young man.” My grandfather never
called me by my first name unless I disappointed him. This was one
of those times. He continued, “Reaping the benefits from someone
else’s slack isn’t going to help them. It’ll only make them lazier.
You know how much I stress education. I always tell you and
your brother that cheating for yourself or someone else serves
no purpose. If it does, it’ll only serve a purpose for failure.” I
didn’t say anything except mentally record everything he said.
“I know how much you love to write and I support you
to the eightieth moon. But I be damn, if I’m going to let you throw
it all away over some research papers that aren’t yours. You want
to earn legitimate money? Write a book!” “Yes, sir” I replied.
“I don’t want you to end up like your hussy ass mammy or your
whore mongering ass pappy. I want you to fly until you can
touch the sky. I believe in you and I know you’re going
to be a successful writer someday. I can feel it in my
bones and guts. Watch and see,” his frown morphed
into a wide smile. I knew he was no longer mad at me.
I returned his smile and munched on my apple.
“What about writing love letters?” That idea was jogging
around in my head after Roderick paid me to ghost write his
love letter. I had to make sure I covered all bases before
pursuing a career as a new freelance writer. My grandfather
stared at me pensively. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with
their education, why not?” He winked at me and resumed
reading the Wall street Journal. Roderick entered the
room. “Hey, grand pop,” he shouted. “Boy why the hell
are you shouting? You’re trying to burst my ear drums
before it’s time for me to go deaf?!” My grandfather
scolded. “Sorry, grand pop,” Roderick went to the kitchen
to fix himself a pork chop sandwich. He was in a happy
mood because he looked like he won the jackpot of love.
He really thought Bridgette was his prize piece of ass, how
pathetic! I didn’t give that relationship a week. I was sure he
was going to have another arm piece faster than he realized
he dumped her. I laughed inwardly and bit into my apple.
Hey, guys my name is Freddy Brooks and I like to read and write books. I may not
be known for my good looks, but I sure know how to cook. Cheesy, much?
Well, I’m not much of a poet, but my heart is bigger than the state
of Texas. I’m an albino best-selling author who owns a mansion in
Baldwin Hills. My silver Lamborghini compliments my house along with
my manicured lawn and tropical palm trees. I’ve written ten Street-Lit
novels that have made The New York Time’s Best Seller’s list.
Each of them sat on the list for many consecutive weeks. I am blessed to
have a staunch fan base along with a stellar writing career. But I can’t
take all the credit for my success. I owe my career to my late grandfather.
He was my biggest cheer leader and he gave me an out pour of his love
and support. He always pushed me to reach for the sky, because
he knew I would become a star someday. I believe he foresaw
my future before I was a twinkle in my mother’s eyes. He treated
me like precious cargo. Not because of my albinism, but because
of my raw natural talent. He raised me and my twin brother, Roderick
all by his lonesome. My brother was born with pigmentation except
for me. When we were youngsters, he used to swear we were not
related because he had a fudge brownie complexion compared to
my snow man complexion. He didn’t treat me like his blood brother.
He treated me more like a foster brother. If it wasn’t for my grandfather’s
unconditional love and support, I don’t know where I’d end up, because
that man’s love filled many hearts. His love was plentiful enough
to stretch from my our little mule town all the way to Kingdom come.
Sir Cleofus Redding Sr
Cleofus Redding Sr was my grandfather’s name. My father was Cleofus Redding
Jr, but he dishonored my grandfather’s name by pimping women including my
mother, Chardonnay. My father was a low-life pimp who treated his fire bird
better than he treated his staple of whores. That Cad slipped up and
impregnated one of his doxies who later gave birth to me and my twin brother.
I learned that my mother’s name was Chardonnay Henson. She was a seventeen
year old run-away from The Town of Water Frog Creek. She was a habitual
drug user and drug abuser, but she was mostly an alcoholic. When
my father recruited my mother as one of his whores, she had more alcohol
inside of her than a distillery. Since she was so loyal to him, she graduated
from being his bottom feeders to becoming one of his bottom bitches.
I never understood why people conflated the two, because anyone at the
bottom was no higher than a midget’s knee caps. To me, if a woman
blankets herself as a bottom bitch, she unknowingly reduced her worth.
She’s a new resident of what I like to call—“The Lowest Common
Denominator” Community. It’s a place where sewer rats, swamp roaches,
and junk yard snakes roam freely. Anyone who flaunts this fucked up
mentality has defecated and urinated on their own dignity, honor,
self worth, and flushed it down the toilet. My mother was no different.
The difference was, she let my father do most of the honors. When she
discovered she was pregnant with us, she continued turning tricks like it
wasn’t god’s business. My brother and I weren’t born in the hospital.
We were born in the back of one of her Trick’s car. When my
grandfather caught wind of his son’s whores giving birth to me
and Roderick, he became our acting parent and guardian angel.
He singled handedly sequestered my parent’s custodial rights
and dared them to blink the wrong way. My parents couldn’t
prove they were fit parents; therefore, they couldn’t waver. Except,
forfeit their title as our parents and give it to someone who was fit
to fill their slot. My father slammed more doors and pimped more
whores longer than Lucille’s Bar had tiled floors. Lucille’s Bar was
a hole in the wall where all the head knockers, whores, and
whore mongers mingled to collect tricks and prospect recruits.
Lucille was the owner of the bar and she was built like an ox.
She had rubbery skin and her mouth was bald as the day
she was born. She cussed like an intoxicated truck driver
and she kept her doubled barreled shot gun by her side in
case the crowd got rowdy. It was rumored that she had a
few bedrooms located in the posterior of the bar. They were
reserved for whores, tricks, and pimps to do their business. My
father and mother were her regular patrons. Especially, my mother
because it was where she drowned herself in booze while scavenging
for tricks. Lucille’s bar was an animal house. She ran that shoddy shack
for forty years until a cyclone swallowed it up and regurgitated what was left
of it. After Lucille lost her business, she lost her sanity too. She deep throated
her shot gun and blew her brains out. The shocking news about her tragic
death permeated faster than the swine flu. The only people who were
devastated were her loyal customers. Otherwise, the overly sensitive
church goers were the ones who ripped her name to shreds. Since her
death was so gruesome and horrific, she had to have a closed casket funeral.
My parents went to pay their respects to her, but my grandfather made me and
Roderick stay in the house. I remembered he said, “Ya’ll won’t be
dragging my grand kids to that battle ax’s funeral. She’s a disgrace to
the human race and she’ll be shoving coal in hell with Satan!” He shook his fist.
“Pops, ease up on ole Lucille. She wasn’t perfect, but she was like
a mother to me. I know you didn’t like her when she was alive,
but the least thing you can do is respect in her death. She’s been
through a lot and could no longer bare the pain. She gave the shoes
off her feet to the people she cared about. And I’m not going to sit
here and listen to you trash her existence, because I hear enough
of that shit from those two bit hypocritical church niggas you hang
with,” my father remarked. My grandfather sardonically chuckled
at my father’s idiocy. My father painted a rosy portrait of Lucille like she
was an angelic saint. She mind as well have sprouted a tail
and wield a pitch fork. “Let me tell you something. You better not
ever disrespect your mother’s honor for the likes of that
low-life sow cow, Lucille. That den of shame she ran had more sin
crawling around it than you could shake a stick at it. I hope Satan
sticks his pitch fork up her porky ass until she explodes into ashes.
You and Chardonnay mind as well lay in the casket beside her and
join her in hell!” My grandfather snarled and shook his fist.
My father threw his hands up in mid air. “I’m going to the funeral.”
“You and Chardonnay better not bring your sorry asses back to my
house again. I don’t want your sinful ways rubbing off on my grandkids!”
My father angrily slammed the door causing the picture to fall off the wall
and it’s glass to break. It was a picture of our beloved grandmother.
I never had the opportunity to meet my grandmother, but my grandfather
said she was a loving soul who spread her love like the infamous Forest fire in
Snake Lake County. From that point on, my parents didn’t visit my grandfather’s
house anymore. I heard through the grape vine, that my father was scooped
up by the police and my mother disappeared without a trace. Her remains
were later discovered near an embankment and he was genetically tied
to her murder. My father was flung in jail and wasted away by the
second. My heart wouldn’t let me shed a tear for him or my mother,
because my brother and I were unplanned accidents. My dad was
no different from the slave master. He owned her body, robbed her
of the little dignity she had, and murdered her. Even though
my mother was young when she met my father, she stood firmly
by my father’s side for years. She was spineless and cowardly.
If I had a choice between blaming my father and mother, I would
blame my mother, because she was more culpable for her own
down falls than he was. Plus, my parents loved Roderick more
than they loved me. My father told me I was cursed by the
white man and that I should be quarantined in my bedroom.
Man, those words sunk my heart like the Titanic. My mother said,
my whiteness scared the hair on top of her head. That was why they
mostly asked to see Roderick. When my grandfather gave them a
good tongue whipping, they hardly ever showed up. That was when
my love for my grandfather soared through the roof while my
love for my parents crashed and burned.
Outcast
As a kid, I was a target for public humiliation. Throughout elementary and
middle school, kids heckled me from head to toe. I’ve been called every
name beyond the book. People acted as if my albinism was a contagious disease.
My brother renounced and denounced me in front of his cohorts. He treated
me worse than those bullies. He was the cool popular guy and I was the
albino outcast. If people knew that he and I were brothers, his popularity
would have dropped faster than a whore’s panties on Sunday. Every day
before we went to school, he reminded me to stay out of his way. “Fred,
I have a reputation to maintain. So, I’m going to need you to stay far
the hell away from me as much as possible.” He saw the hurt in my eyes.
And I could tell his cruelty chipped away at his heart a little. “Um,
listen. You and I can play video games after school.” Then he would
justify his churlish behavior by saying, “If people see me in public
with you, they would eye ball us like circus animals. Especially,
you because they’re not used to seeing someone like you. They’ll
laugh at you and jab you with insults. And you know I would never
let that happen.” But when we were in school, he and clown his ass
friends would taunt me relentlessly. “Yo, White out,” one of his friends
shouted. I ignored him and kept my pace. “My Social Studies
teacher gave me an F on my history paper. And I’m going to need
to use some of your color to whiten it out so I can change it to an A.
He and the crowd exploded with laughter. My brother made it
worse by inserting his measly two cents, “Speaking of white
out, the school can use his colors to whiten out the graffiti on
these walls. His opprobrious comments seared a hole in my heart.
He killed my spirit and left me feeling like an empty hollow shell.
During those awful times, I poured my heart and soul into
the stories I wrote. I identified with the characters I talked about
and the stories carried my mind to a totally different world.
My English teacher, Mrs. Firehouse was the first one who
encouraged me to submit my work to a few short story contests. When I did that,
I earned certificates and trophies across the board. My grandfather’s
walls were covered with all of my awards. He was the one who
instilled me with the go-getter attitude I have today. I stroked
my pen until my hands went numb. My love
for writing was so strong, it segued into a lucrative career.
During my high school days, I published short stories
in the school’s newspaper and I earned a reputation for
myself. I formed friendships with kids who were less
judgmental and more receptive. Girls wouldn’t give me any
play until I met a girl named Bridgette Polite. She was a
creole cutie with a bodacious booty. Her pants kissed
and hugged her fat ass so hard, if she sneezed,
they would split in half. Every corner she turned, heads
craned, chatters paused, and tongues wagged. She had
rhythm in her walk and talk. And she was never off beat.
My friend Cory, who shared the same homeroom with me
nudged me on the shoulders. “Dude, check out the body
on that shorty.” I returned his response with a shrug. “She’s
alright.” I acted like she wasn’t all that, because I didn’t
want to appear like the rest of those ravenous guys who
wanted a taste of her. She was pretty but she was out of
my limits. “Dude, she’s more than alright. She’s a goddess.
Every dude wants to tap that ass. Word on the street is, she’s got
a wicked pussy. Wicked enough to make a man change his
religion.” “Damn, it’s no wonder she’s got guys drooling over her.”
Bridgette was an eye candy, but I didn’t know what to do with
a girl like her. She was a seasoned temptress and her vagina
was like a urinal, it was opened to the public. Besides, I didn’t know
anything about women; furthermore, it would have been difficult
warding off those horny howling wolves. “Man, if I had a chick like
her, I would give her the world.” Cory’s eyes were so moony, he
looked like an Anime. I couldn’t resist laughing at his cheesy
ass. “Cory, what more can you give her besides, your
telescope, Derek Jeter baseball cards, and trust fund. The
only thing she’ll use is your trust fund to finance her
wardrobe. And we both know that’s barely enough to buy acres
of land, let alone the whole world.” He and I both laughed.
“Well, can a man like me fantasize?” Corey quizzed. “Sure, because
that’s the closest you’ll ever get to being with her.” I guffawed.
“Yeah, whatever. You can front like you’re not interested, but
you know you want to hit it as much as I do.” “Humph, she’s
cute, but she’s got some miles on her. I want a girl who’s
never been ridden or test driven, catch my drift?” “Yeah, but can you
think of a beautiful girl who’s speedometer is zero these days?
Let’s be real about it. The only virgins that are left, are the
ugly girls. Even a corny dweeb like me wouldn’t stick my pencil
in their sharpener.” “Wow, that’s cold. Everyone deserves love,
Cory.” “You should tell that to the ones who won’t sleep with them.”
I shook my head at his cold remarks. But I had to put up a fight.
“What about Sadie Funston. She’s pretty, smart, and she’s quiet,” I said.
“Sadie Funston?” Cory mocked. “Sadie Funston is a sweet nerdy girl by
day, but she’s a street walker by night!” “What! Not Sadie “Good girl”
Funston. This can’t be the same Sadie we’re talking about. Because
the Sadie I know has a good head on her shoulders.” Cory chuckled at me.
“She’s got a good head alright, because she’s giving it to every man on her
block. The quiet ones always have a hidden skeleton.” Cory’s shocking
revelation about Sadie Funston did a number on my heart. I never expected
someone like Sadie to minimize her worth. I used to have a secret crush
on her when we were in third grade. She was a shy and quiet girl then.
But she became a Jezebel who milled in the same “Lowest Common
Denominator” circle with my mother, father, Lucille, the pimps, the
prostitutes, pushers, hustlers and Bridgette. Her life was tumbling
down a hill and not even a big rock could stop it. The only thing that could
stop it was the death pit called, “Hell” because that’s where she was headed.
I sucked in some air, exhaled, and continued our discourse.
“What does it say about Bridgette then,” “What about her?”
Cory asked with a confounded look on his face. “It means Bridgette is
a whore knob. Everyone gets a turn too.” “Yes, but Bridgette is
popular, she’s sexy, and she carries herself with class.” Cory was
intelligent, but that moment, he sounded like every man who’s brain
cells plunged all the way to his dick. I wanted to bitch smack the
stupidity out of him. Instead, I approached the subject with
tact. “Bridgette is a whore. And there’s no such thing is a classy
whore. She uses her body to seduce men and once they’re hooked,
she reels them in. Her throat and vagina have a few things in
common-They’re wide and slippery enough to make an easy
entrance.” Damn, that’s cold, Fred.” “It’s not cold. It’s the truth,”
I remarked.” “So, don’t go putting her diseased ridden vagina
on a pedestal when she’s got a sea of random tadpoles swimming
in her gut like Sadie. They’re both accountable for their whorish
behavior; therefore they should assume the position. I had no
sympathy for the likes of Sadie and Bridgette. Girls like them
clamored for love and attention all day. They dropped
their panties along with their dignity to get that so-called
reciprocated love. If they believed those men who used
them, loved them, they were more dumber than I gave
them credit for. I surmise the apathy I had, stemmed from
watching my mother make a fool out of herself over the years.
She didn’t give a damn and if she would have been a
better mother, she’d still have my respect and most of all-
her life. I refocused my eyes on Bridgette and I watched her
accost my brother (who was on the foot ball team). I watched
him smell himself like he was the shit. And he was the shit, literally!
Grandfathers Know Best
Bridgette managed to suck my brother into her web of deceit.
Whatever she had under her tight ass blouse sleeves, it was destined
to rear its’ ugly head. Being a star writer earned me friends, but
no girlfriends. Roderick used my small fame to his advantage by
getting me to write love letters for his slew of girlfriends.
He didn’t tell people we were related, but he hung out with me
in public. We were doing homework in our bedroom, when he
he broached the subject about his new piece of ass-Bridgette.
“Yo, did you see Bridgette Polite. Shorty is bad?” I knew he
was using her name as bait to coax me into being his love
letter ghost writer again. I knew he was going to ask me
so I beat him to it instead. “You want me to write the love
letter, right?” He was slightly caught off guard, but he
smiled. “Right!” he said with overt excitement in his voice.
I have never seen him so happy about any girl. He was
only dating the girl for a week and she had his nose opened
wider than I-35’s belt way. I don’t know why I didn’t tell
him what I heard about her, because I thought he knew, but
still didn’t give a damn. “I like Bridgette a lot. She’s beautiful,
sexy, smart, and funny.” It was foreign of him to tell me about
Bridgette, because he never told me about any of his other
girlfriends. He continued, “I can’t wait to pop the big question
to her.” “Big question? You’re going to marry the girl!” Roderick
sucked his teeth and said, “Naw, man I’m going to ask her to be
my girlfriend.” Man, that was a relief. Roderick had a way with
the ladies, but he and Bridgette were in the same realm. They
were equally attractive and promiscuous. I wondered if they
were aware of each other’s reputation. I knew he was out of his
mind for assuming exclusivity with the likes of Bridgette,
vice versa. The arrangement they had should have been
more like a, “Wham Bam Thank You Ma’am.” He was
growing serious when he hardly knew the girl. Roderick
was a far cry from perfect, but Bridgette was a recipe for
calamity. Something about her presence disturbed my bowels.
I was bound to find the hell out though. “When do you
need the love letter completed?” I asked. “I need it finished
before the homecoming dance for next week.” “Ok.”
“Thanks, man. You don’t know how much this means to
me. Matter of fact, here’s ten bucks.” He placed the crisp
ten dollar bill in the palm of my hands. I normally
didn’t charge for my writing but the newly printed
ten dollar bill gave me an epiphany. Since this desperate
fool was willing to compensate me for writing mushy
love letters for him, I figured I could turn my writing
hobby into a business. Anyone who needed their paper written,
had to pay me generously for my services. I couldn’t wait to
tell my grandfather about my latest venture. He was a terrific
listener and he gave the best advices. “Hey gramps” “Hey son,
how was school today?” “School was great as usual.
We didn’t get much homework and my History teacher gave
us a pop quiz. It was really easy,” I said while going to the
refrigerator to grab an apple. “How’s your writing coming
along?” My grandfather inquired. “It was great.
Matter of fact, I think I’m going to charge people who needs
their paper written. I know a lot of students who don’t like
writing their papers. So, I figure if they pay me to write it for them,
I’ll cash in and I’ll make a decent little income on the side,” I cheesed.
My father gave me a pointed look. He slid his reading glasses to
the tip of his nose and cleared his throat . I knew what that look
meant. It meant he was going to reprimand me until his tongue got
tired. I gave him a defeated look and found the nearest chair I
could find. I flopped on the couch like a drunken fat man on pay day.
“Frederick, you’re a smart young man.” My grandfather never
called me by my first name unless I disappointed him. This was one
of those times. He continued, “Reaping the benefits from someone
else’s slack isn’t going to help them. It’ll only make them lazier.
You know how much I stress education. I always tell you and
your brother that cheating for yourself or someone else serves
no purpose. If it does, it’ll only serve a purpose for failure.” I
didn’t say anything except mentally record everything he said.
“I know how much you love to write and I support you
to the eightieth moon. But I be damn, if I’m going to let you throw
it all away over some research papers that aren’t yours. You want
to earn legitimate money? Write a book!” “Yes, sir” I replied.
“I don’t want you to end up like your hussy ass mammy or your
whore mongering ass pappy. I want you to fly until you can
touch the sky. I believe in you and I know you’re going
to be a successful writer someday. I can feel it in my
bones and guts. Watch and see,” his frown morphed
into a wide smile. I knew he was no longer mad at me.
I returned his smile and munched on my apple.
“What about writing love letters?” That idea was jogging
around in my head after Roderick paid me to ghost write his
love letter. I had to make sure I covered all bases before
pursuing a career as a new freelance writer. My grandfather
stared at me pensively. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with
their education, why not?” He winked at me and resumed
reading the Wall street Journal. Roderick entered the
room. “Hey, grand pop,” he shouted. “Boy why the hell
are you shouting? You’re trying to burst my ear drums
before it’s time for me to go deaf?!” My grandfather
scolded. “Sorry, grand pop,” Roderick went to the kitchen
to fix himself a pork chop sandwich. He was in a happy
mood because he looked like he won the jackpot of love.
He really thought Bridgette was his prize piece of ass, how
pathetic! I didn’t give that relationship a week. I was sure he
was going to have another arm piece faster than he realized
he dumped her. I laughed inwardly and bit into my apple.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Be the Second Person to Post a Review for my Novel
Be the next person to leave a review on my novel "Ebony the Beloved" which is available on Amazon. Here's the synopsis: Ebony has been condemned and rejected by her parents and peers all of her life. Like many other black girls who grew up weary to face life, she struggles with the adversities of being impoverished and accepted for who she is. After being mentally, emotionally and sexually abused, Ebony still struggles to fight her way to the top, never fully realizing what her worth is until she finds love and acceptance from one of the faculty members at her school. From that point on, things began to blossom for her until she meets a smooth operator named, Desmond Waltz.
Desmond is a world renowned entertainer who takes a sudden romantic interest in Ebony. His hidden sadistic and sexually devious desires for her erupt into rage, abuse, and imprisonment. Not only is Ebony’s world turned upside down, but she has to deal with Desmond’s desire to see her suffer under his thumb, but she is also subjected to his domineering mother, who hates her and abuses her every time she gets, leaving Ebony beaten and bloody and begging for the pain to stop. Will she ever overcome?
Purchase your copy today.
Bossladywriter
Desmond is a world renowned entertainer who takes a sudden romantic interest in Ebony. His hidden sadistic and sexually devious desires for her erupt into rage, abuse, and imprisonment. Not only is Ebony’s world turned upside down, but she has to deal with Desmond’s desire to see her suffer under his thumb, but she is also subjected to his domineering mother, who hates her and abuses her every time she gets, leaving Ebony beaten and bloody and begging for the pain to stop. Will she ever overcome?
Purchase your copy today.
Bossladywriter
Friday, October 14, 2011
Woman Busted After Trying To Find Weed On Craigslist
Here's how not to find weed: A New Mexico woman was arrested after police said she put an ad up on Craigslist trying to buy marijuana.
Anamicka Dave, 29, of Albuquerque, was charged after undercover officers posing as pot dealers (I'd like to have seen their "disguises") arranged to meet her through text messages, reports Joe Bartels at KOB Eyewitness News 4.
Dave's Craigslist ad in the "Casual Encounters" section noted that she was new to town and "looking for Mary Jane."
The ad was so blatant, Roswell Police Sgt. Ty Sharpe said he had to make sure it wasn't posted by another undercover officer.
"I was really surprised that someone would actually put on there they were looking for weed -- an actually illegal product -- to the fact that I called my boss to make sure it wasn't one of our guys trying to do a reverse sting," Sharpe said.
Police met the clueless woman in a parking lot and arrested her for "criminal solicitation."
Cited here: Toke of the Town
Anamicka Dave, 29, of Albuquerque, was charged after undercover officers posing as pot dealers (I'd like to have seen their "disguises") arranged to meet her through text messages, reports Joe Bartels at KOB Eyewitness News 4.
Dave's Craigslist ad in the "Casual Encounters" section noted that she was new to town and "looking for Mary Jane."
The ad was so blatant, Roswell Police Sgt. Ty Sharpe said he had to make sure it wasn't posted by another undercover officer.
"I was really surprised that someone would actually put on there they were looking for weed -- an actually illegal product -- to the fact that I called my boss to make sure it wasn't one of our guys trying to do a reverse sting," Sharpe said.
Police met the clueless woman in a parking lot and arrested her for "criminal solicitation."
Cited here: Toke of the Town
To be Loved or NOT to be Loved
How does a 15 year old girl go from being a physically beaten, tortured, bullied pariah, to becoming an international power house? Purchase your copy to find out how she did it. :-)
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Purchase Lloyd's Album, Folks! This Poor Talented Man Can Use All The Help He Can Get!
Lloyd's albums are bangers and rockers! Purchase your copy on Amazon :)
OR
OR
My'onna Torres Went Missing. Please Share This Post!!
My'onna Torres has gone missing from a Chuck E Cheese in Baltimore, MD on Sept 17, 2011. If you've seen her, call 410-887-0872
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Vybz Kartel Launches Skin Bleaching Product Line Designed For Men
This is no Saturday Night Live skit. It’s real life.
Awaiting trial on a charge of conspiracy to murder has not killed Vybz Kartel’s entrepreneurial spirit. No shade to the decease, of course. The former Mr. Hanky stunt double is launching his own range of men’s cosmetics this month which includes a variety of skin-brightening products containing hydroquinone.
When one week old dog poo gate first broke back in the beginning of the year Kartel claimed to use cake soap, a clothes-bleaching product, to lighten his skin in order to make his tattoos more visible. But after the Jamaican manufacturer of the product refuted his claims he explained that he actually used his own special blend.
Soon the controversial musician’s secret recipe will be available to buy. Think of it as Carol’s Daughter for the self-loathing market.
Buyer beware. Kartel’s past endorsements track record is a pretty shit one. His line of Daggering condoms had a reputation for splitting.
Cited here: Crunk and Disorderly
Awaiting trial on a charge of conspiracy to murder has not killed Vybz Kartel’s entrepreneurial spirit. No shade to the decease, of course. The former Mr. Hanky stunt double is launching his own range of men’s cosmetics this month which includes a variety of skin-brightening products containing hydroquinone.
When one week old dog poo gate first broke back in the beginning of the year Kartel claimed to use cake soap, a clothes-bleaching product, to lighten his skin in order to make his tattoos more visible. But after the Jamaican manufacturer of the product refuted his claims he explained that he actually used his own special blend.
Soon the controversial musician’s secret recipe will be available to buy. Think of it as Carol’s Daughter for the self-loathing market.
Buyer beware. Kartel’s past endorsements track record is a pretty shit one. His line of Daggering condoms had a reputation for splitting.
Cited here: Crunk and Disorderly
My Latest Freelance Gig
Greetings, international fans!
You are now speaking to a natural hair freelance writer. Yes, I will be compensated for my weekly contributions. And I'll be scouring for more PAID freelance writing gigs that offer similar assignments. I am ecstatic and elated! The most high is opening a can of success for me. I must also credit myself for all my diligence and persistence. But he gets most of the glory, of course. ^_^ Cheeaaaa babaaaay!
Bossladywriter
You are now speaking to a natural hair freelance writer. Yes, I will be compensated for my weekly contributions. And I'll be scouring for more PAID freelance writing gigs that offer similar assignments. I am ecstatic and elated! The most high is opening a can of success for me. I must also credit myself for all my diligence and persistence. But he gets most of the glory, of course. ^_^ Cheeaaaa babaaaay!
Bossladywriter
Monday, October 10, 2011
My Sister Has Lost Her Muthaflipping Mind!!!!
Yesterday, my sister (who thinks she's some fashion maven) donned, a dark pink nylon and polyester woven blouse with brown mini shorts, and a black leather belt above her protruding stomach. (Laughing my ass off). And she isn't pregnant, although, she looks like she's in her third trimester. Any who, I couldn't fathom watching her wear that leather belt high above her stomach, which was a few centimeters below her breasts. She thinks she's a world class super model, looking like world class pig in a tight ass blanket. I'm a curvaceous woman myself and I'm no fashion guru. However, I can discern classiness from tackiness. My sister gets an A + in tackiness and an F - in classiness! I'm all for embracing your body, but I'm also for embodying self-respect. First off, her blouse doesn't fit her frame and second off, she has love handles crawling down her back. And to top it off, her bra straps were showing. When she sported that belt, it caused her D-cup bosoms to spill over like the love handles on her back. (Shaking my head) She relentlessly taunted me for the way I dressed, but at least I don't resemble an over stuffed German sausage. Come on now...if you're going to tell people how to dress, you should exemplify it. My sister is nine years younger than me. She's temperamental and she's infused with lust. She also thinks she knows every damn thing. Typical. I'm having a field day watching her make a world class ass out of herself daily. Because she's a reflection of the old me, minus the ill-fitting clothes, temperament, and lustiness. lol
Bossladywriter
Bossladywriter
Video Surfaces Of Gay African Man Being Beaten, Burned To Death
Warning: Video Is Extremely Graphic, Watch With Caution
THE REALITIES OF PROMOTING YOUR BOOK
Last night was my third time giving my World Building Workshop to kids. Let me just say, when I started the journey of an author, I had no idea where it would lead.
The best part of writing for kids, for me at least, is watching their innocent, thirsty faces light up when you’ve given them some of your time. There are some other enlightening parts of promoting my book that make me laugh and shake my head with disbelief.
DOING WORKSHOPS
I am lucky, because I have the natural gift of gab. I love people. Talking and interacting with young people is something I’ve always loved to do. Thank goodness for it, because if I wasn’t, it would be a difficult endeavor to set out in promoting myself as an author.
I do a series of workshops and speaks to kids at schools, learning centers, book clubs and so on. My event’s coordinator is keeping me extremely busy. Thankfully, she usually supports my events by being there and helping everything to move smoothly.
Workshops are a great way to meet your audience. I also get tons of feedback from them, and material for my books. One kid even asked me if the world they built at the workshop could be used in my next book.
There is a lot of planning that goes into doing workshops, and as a first time author, the pay is minimum. Usually the event cost more for me to give then I actually sell in books. We even do a raffle at the event and give away books, posters, key chains, and magnets. However, for me this is a great compliment to my author platform, and I love doing them.
DOING BOOK SIGNINGS
Okay, picture this, you are sitting at a decorated table and there is a line out the door of people waiting to purchase your book. NOT! That is not the reality for a first time author – heck even an experienced author that is little known.
If you are going to do a book signing - and you want to actually sell a book, you have to work for it. That means you have to engage people. Speak up and work them over to your table. Have your one minute pitch ready.
When I went on my five bookstore tour I was extremely nervous. I had no idea what to expect. After I warmed up at the first store, and only sold a measly two books, I asked the store manager for tips.
She told me to walk up to incoming customers with book in hand and invite them to my table. My husband was also there, he has about twenty years of sales behind him, and told me to give my pitch then have them read the first page of the book.
Guess what?! It worked! I sold almost all of the pre-ordered books for all five stores. The store managers told my events coordinator to call them for another order, and that they would love to have us back. Wow! Now, I worked my tail off. I was so tired after that mini-tour I slept for ten hours.
MARKETING
If you are writing and think that your publisher will do all of your marketing for your book you are – WRONG. You should sit down with your publisher, build two marketing plans. One plan should be for all the free marketing opportunities you can feasibly complete. The other marketing plan should combine your publishers marketing dollars for your book, and your marketing dollars for your book.
Start marketing at least 8 months before release date. My publisher made it clear to me that to release my books without proper build up is a waste of time, money, and effort. Boy was he ever right. Spend an hour a day on marketing, and you will be surprise at your progress.
BOOK PROMOTION IN A NUTSHELL
Getting to the point where people know you and your book takes work. Lots, and lots of work. If you are not willing to do the work, then set your expectations for your book’s success accordingly.
If you are willing to do the work, be realistic about your expectations, work to improve your marketing strategies and yourself as a writer…hold on. You may just be more successful at it than you would have ever thought possible.
Cited here: Impreston
The best part of writing for kids, for me at least, is watching their innocent, thirsty faces light up when you’ve given them some of your time. There are some other enlightening parts of promoting my book that make me laugh and shake my head with disbelief.
DOING WORKSHOPS
I am lucky, because I have the natural gift of gab. I love people. Talking and interacting with young people is something I’ve always loved to do. Thank goodness for it, because if I wasn’t, it would be a difficult endeavor to set out in promoting myself as an author.
I do a series of workshops and speaks to kids at schools, learning centers, book clubs and so on. My event’s coordinator is keeping me extremely busy. Thankfully, she usually supports my events by being there and helping everything to move smoothly.
Workshops are a great way to meet your audience. I also get tons of feedback from them, and material for my books. One kid even asked me if the world they built at the workshop could be used in my next book.
There is a lot of planning that goes into doing workshops, and as a first time author, the pay is minimum. Usually the event cost more for me to give then I actually sell in books. We even do a raffle at the event and give away books, posters, key chains, and magnets. However, for me this is a great compliment to my author platform, and I love doing them.
DOING BOOK SIGNINGS
Okay, picture this, you are sitting at a decorated table and there is a line out the door of people waiting to purchase your book. NOT! That is not the reality for a first time author – heck even an experienced author that is little known.
If you are going to do a book signing - and you want to actually sell a book, you have to work for it. That means you have to engage people. Speak up and work them over to your table. Have your one minute pitch ready.
When I went on my five bookstore tour I was extremely nervous. I had no idea what to expect. After I warmed up at the first store, and only sold a measly two books, I asked the store manager for tips.
She told me to walk up to incoming customers with book in hand and invite them to my table. My husband was also there, he has about twenty years of sales behind him, and told me to give my pitch then have them read the first page of the book.
Guess what?! It worked! I sold almost all of the pre-ordered books for all five stores. The store managers told my events coordinator to call them for another order, and that they would love to have us back. Wow! Now, I worked my tail off. I was so tired after that mini-tour I slept for ten hours.
MARKETING
If you are writing and think that your publisher will do all of your marketing for your book you are – WRONG. You should sit down with your publisher, build two marketing plans. One plan should be for all the free marketing opportunities you can feasibly complete. The other marketing plan should combine your publishers marketing dollars for your book, and your marketing dollars for your book.
Start marketing at least 8 months before release date. My publisher made it clear to me that to release my books without proper build up is a waste of time, money, and effort. Boy was he ever right. Spend an hour a day on marketing, and you will be surprise at your progress.
BOOK PROMOTION IN A NUTSHELL
Getting to the point where people know you and your book takes work. Lots, and lots of work. If you are not willing to do the work, then set your expectations for your book’s success accordingly.
If you are willing to do the work, be realistic about your expectations, work to improve your marketing strategies and yourself as a writer…hold on. You may just be more successful at it than you would have ever thought possible.
Cited here: Impreston
Beauty: Nappiology: A Conference for Natural-Haired Sistahs
October 10th, 2011 - By Brande Victorian
We know black women are serious about their hair and now those who are rocking natural styles don’t have to limit their hair care knowledge to trial and error. The one-day Nappiology Expo in North Texas aims to teach women of color about the flexibility of unprocessed hair.
More than 1,000 African American women are expected show up for the event on Nov. 5 in Hurtst, Texas. The three-year-old conference is the brainchild of De Johnson, a mother who stopped using relaxers when she became pregnant 21 years ago. Just four years ago she stopped pressing her hair altogether and started wearing it “nappy.” This is the third year the conference has been in existence.
“When I started doing research on styles and products, I learned that there were so many more options for how I could wear my hair than I had ever imagined,” she told the Dallas South News. “It is the mission of Nappiology to educate, embrace, and celebrate natural beautiful African American hair and our nappy roots.”
According to consumer spending and market research firm Mintel, in the last two years chemical hair relaxer sales have dropped by 12 percent. Overall, black hair care products represent a $10 billion industry.
“Hair care companies and local stylists are finding that the natural hair care business is a fast growing segment of the hair care market,” De Johnson said. “One-third of our Nappiology members spend more than $300 per year on natural hair care products.”
Nine workshops are scheduled for the expo:
I’m natural…now what?
I just love my wooly hair!
I’ve tried everything to treat my hair loss and NOTHING works!
That Hair Thing: Sisterlocks
Hair Rules
Loc Styling
The Nuts and Bolts of Hair Locking
The Grocery Store Natural Hair Regimen
Healthy hair vs. Damaged hair
A number of vendors will also be on site with their products, including NappyBliss, a salon and boutique in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, Amazing Botanicals, and Dr. Amerson’s Therapeutic Essentials.
Having never attended any type of hair show or convention, I’m curious about what ultimately drives women to attend these conventions. It also makes me think that if there were similar conferences for women who relax their hair (and there may be some that I’m not aware of), maybe these women wouldn’t have such horror stories about straightening their tresses.
Where do you get tips on how to style your hair (natural/straight)? Would you consider attending Nappiology or a similar conference?
Cited here: Madam Noire
We know black women are serious about their hair and now those who are rocking natural styles don’t have to limit their hair care knowledge to trial and error. The one-day Nappiology Expo in North Texas aims to teach women of color about the flexibility of unprocessed hair.
More than 1,000 African American women are expected show up for the event on Nov. 5 in Hurtst, Texas. The three-year-old conference is the brainchild of De Johnson, a mother who stopped using relaxers when she became pregnant 21 years ago. Just four years ago she stopped pressing her hair altogether and started wearing it “nappy.” This is the third year the conference has been in existence.
“When I started doing research on styles and products, I learned that there were so many more options for how I could wear my hair than I had ever imagined,” she told the Dallas South News. “It is the mission of Nappiology to educate, embrace, and celebrate natural beautiful African American hair and our nappy roots.”
According to consumer spending and market research firm Mintel, in the last two years chemical hair relaxer sales have dropped by 12 percent. Overall, black hair care products represent a $10 billion industry.
“Hair care companies and local stylists are finding that the natural hair care business is a fast growing segment of the hair care market,” De Johnson said. “One-third of our Nappiology members spend more than $300 per year on natural hair care products.”
Nine workshops are scheduled for the expo:
I’m natural…now what?
I just love my wooly hair!
I’ve tried everything to treat my hair loss and NOTHING works!
That Hair Thing: Sisterlocks
Hair Rules
Loc Styling
The Nuts and Bolts of Hair Locking
The Grocery Store Natural Hair Regimen
Healthy hair vs. Damaged hair
A number of vendors will also be on site with their products, including NappyBliss, a salon and boutique in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, Amazing Botanicals, and Dr. Amerson’s Therapeutic Essentials.
Having never attended any type of hair show or convention, I’m curious about what ultimately drives women to attend these conventions. It also makes me think that if there were similar conferences for women who relax their hair (and there may be some that I’m not aware of), maybe these women wouldn’t have such horror stories about straightening their tresses.
Where do you get tips on how to style your hair (natural/straight)? Would you consider attending Nappiology or a similar conference?
Cited here: Madam Noire
Cooked! Model Who Ate Husband Wants Parole
COSTA MESA, CA — A former model who was convicted of killing her husband, dismembering his body parts, and then cooking and eating them in 1991 is currently asking for parole.
Omaima Aree Nelson is asking for parole for the second time after being denied in 2006.
Cited here: News One
Omaima Aree Nelson is asking for parole for the second time after being denied in 2006.
Cited here: News One
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Triple Crown Publisher, Vickie Stringer is Coming Under fire for Stealing From Authors and Her Employees and Mistreating Them: Authors, Publishers, and Editors PLEASE Be Vigilant!
Disclaimer: I'm not the author of this article. I've never had any affiliation with Vickie Stringer (Thank goodness). I'm just sharing this report with you all. Here's the website where it can be found: Rip off (Click the link)
This article and the companion piece about a publisher are being published under the First Amendment. It may be freely quoted or copied in full with attribution. AFTER READING THIS WOULD YOU TRUST DOING BUSINESS WITH THIS PERSON ETC…….
I did not want to write this piece. I am an entrepreneur. In this case, I have to speak out, in part to warn readers/individuals that this can happen to them. The personal consequences were severe and have seriously disrupted my life. Everything in this post is true. I have direct evidence obtained through multiple witnesses, and if called to, I will repeat it all under oath. While reading this, ask yourself, how would you feel and what would you do if you were confronted with a manager who did these things to you?
Before publishing this, I was concerned that it would expose me to further harassment. I decided to go public after hiring a private investigator to do a background check. I had to respond. I just wish the other party had been reasonable, as there were dozens of ways to deal with the situation amicably. I did not want this outcome.
First I am not bemoaning what was – life goes on! However, I have little sympathy, for this employer/business to draw conclusions about my work abilities, judgment, maturity and professionalism based on the lack of integrity shown by this employer. All I want is what is DUE ME! POINT BLANK BOTTOMLINE!
I should have taken the clues when this employer was badmouthing past employees as well as sharing personal/confidential information regarding previous employees, and the constant turnover coupled with the way the accounting department was horrendously ran. Need I say more?
When it comes to the world of work, there is so much you don't control: your boss, co-workers, clients and customers, company policies and the direction a company is heading. Don't give up the one key thing you do control: your professionalism and reputation. It's in your hands and it can make or break a career, so manage it wisely.
I was offered the position of Operational Manager at Triple Crown Publication; the International leader of the urban fiction renaissance. To make my story short, because I still plain on suing this company, and continue notifying the public about the lack of integrity, etc., shown once I left. Bottom line, the job was not a GREAT fit. The company finances “QuickBooks†were inexcusable, which made it look like I was slow in handling my task. Never the less I did my job well, with what I had to work with. There was an error with the checking account/QuickBooks which resulted in vendors being paid that where not slated to be paid at that time according to this employer. I was basically accused of sending out checks without a signature and the bank cashed these checks. However these checks were written 2 months prior to my employment and I had never seen these checks. I was not fired, per say but felt very uncomfortable if this employer could place blame on me for things that occurred before my employment, what type of character did they truly have? The irony which was MORALLY WRONG and ILLEGAL, my last paycheck was reduced with out my knowledge. Prior to beginning my employment I was sent a letter offer/contract which clearly stated my salary. My original paycheck was correct; however my final paycheck was completely off. When I noticed that there had been an oversight, trying to be professional, because I assumed it was an OVERSIGHT; I sent an email to the employer, and was basically cursed out and sent several vulgar text messages which I still have for proof, stating do not contact this business again, etc. Need I say more! To date I have not received the funds due me. As a matter of fact, I was told by this employer via text “take your peanuts, meaning my little paycheck-basically saying, “all I pay my staff is peanuts.†It hard enough to accept a job with no medical benefits, no workers’ compensation, and the salary is low, but then to be dogged and disrespected because you think you can, well understand this TCP you can’t here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I understand it hard to change old ways – once in the streets, it takes true maturity to stay on the straight course; therefore you do not burn bridges. Karma is for real.
Bossladywriter
This article and the companion piece about a publisher are being published under the First Amendment. It may be freely quoted or copied in full with attribution. AFTER READING THIS WOULD YOU TRUST DOING BUSINESS WITH THIS PERSON ETC…….
I did not want to write this piece. I am an entrepreneur. In this case, I have to speak out, in part to warn readers/individuals that this can happen to them. The personal consequences were severe and have seriously disrupted my life. Everything in this post is true. I have direct evidence obtained through multiple witnesses, and if called to, I will repeat it all under oath. While reading this, ask yourself, how would you feel and what would you do if you were confronted with a manager who did these things to you?
Before publishing this, I was concerned that it would expose me to further harassment. I decided to go public after hiring a private investigator to do a background check. I had to respond. I just wish the other party had been reasonable, as there were dozens of ways to deal with the situation amicably. I did not want this outcome.
First I am not bemoaning what was – life goes on! However, I have little sympathy, for this employer/business to draw conclusions about my work abilities, judgment, maturity and professionalism based on the lack of integrity shown by this employer. All I want is what is DUE ME! POINT BLANK BOTTOMLINE!
I should have taken the clues when this employer was badmouthing past employees as well as sharing personal/confidential information regarding previous employees, and the constant turnover coupled with the way the accounting department was horrendously ran. Need I say more?
When it comes to the world of work, there is so much you don't control: your boss, co-workers, clients and customers, company policies and the direction a company is heading. Don't give up the one key thing you do control: your professionalism and reputation. It's in your hands and it can make or break a career, so manage it wisely.
I was offered the position of Operational Manager at Triple Crown Publication; the International leader of the urban fiction renaissance. To make my story short, because I still plain on suing this company, and continue notifying the public about the lack of integrity, etc., shown once I left. Bottom line, the job was not a GREAT fit. The company finances “QuickBooks†were inexcusable, which made it look like I was slow in handling my task. Never the less I did my job well, with what I had to work with. There was an error with the checking account/QuickBooks which resulted in vendors being paid that where not slated to be paid at that time according to this employer. I was basically accused of sending out checks without a signature and the bank cashed these checks. However these checks were written 2 months prior to my employment and I had never seen these checks. I was not fired, per say but felt very uncomfortable if this employer could place blame on me for things that occurred before my employment, what type of character did they truly have? The irony which was MORALLY WRONG and ILLEGAL, my last paycheck was reduced with out my knowledge. Prior to beginning my employment I was sent a letter offer/contract which clearly stated my salary. My original paycheck was correct; however my final paycheck was completely off. When I noticed that there had been an oversight, trying to be professional, because I assumed it was an OVERSIGHT; I sent an email to the employer, and was basically cursed out and sent several vulgar text messages which I still have for proof, stating do not contact this business again, etc. Need I say more! To date I have not received the funds due me. As a matter of fact, I was told by this employer via text “take your peanuts, meaning my little paycheck-basically saying, “all I pay my staff is peanuts.†It hard enough to accept a job with no medical benefits, no workers’ compensation, and the salary is low, but then to be dogged and disrespected because you think you can, well understand this TCP you can’t here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I understand it hard to change old ways – once in the streets, it takes true maturity to stay on the straight course; therefore you do not burn bridges. Karma is for real.
Bossladywriter
Author T. Styles Puts Triple Crown Publication's Ceo, Vickie Stringer On Blast
This is a must watch!
Woman Finds Mother Alive in the Morgue
The authorities have told you that your mother has passed and you have to identify her body at the morgue.
This was Rosangela Celestrino’s story. But her story didn’t end like most people in the morgue. She actually left with her mother. Celestrino, the young Brazilian woman, said she went to kiss her mother and noticed she as breathing.
It’s a generally happy story aside from the fact that Celestrino’s mother laid in a cold morgue for two hours.
The doctor who pronounced Celestrino’s mother dead was fired.
Cited here: Madam Noire
This was Rosangela Celestrino’s story. But her story didn’t end like most people in the morgue. She actually left with her mother. Celestrino, the young Brazilian woman, said she went to kiss her mother and noticed she as breathing.
It’s a generally happy story aside from the fact that Celestrino’s mother laid in a cold morgue for two hours.
The doctor who pronounced Celestrino’s mother dead was fired.
Cited here: Madam Noire
Friday, October 7, 2011
Samuel L. Jackson, Chris Rock & Zoe Saldana To Star In Bernie Mac Movie
Samuel L. Jackson, Chris Rock and Zoe Saldana have been lined up to star in a Bernie Mac documentary.
The comedian sadly passed away in 2008 due to complications with pneumonia. Now, Image Entertainment have acquired the rights to the film. I Ain't Scared Of You: A Tribute To Bernie Mac, will feature never-before-seen footage of Bernie's early performances in addition to his classic shows.
Hollywood actor Samuel L. Jackson, Zoe Saldana and Chris Rock will make appearances in the movie, paying tribute to the much-loved comedian.
Bernie was only 50 when he died.
Will you be watching his documentary?
Cited here: Tale Tela
The comedian sadly passed away in 2008 due to complications with pneumonia. Now, Image Entertainment have acquired the rights to the film. I Ain't Scared Of You: A Tribute To Bernie Mac, will feature never-before-seen footage of Bernie's early performances in addition to his classic shows.
Hollywood actor Samuel L. Jackson, Zoe Saldana and Chris Rock will make appearances in the movie, paying tribute to the much-loved comedian.
Bernie was only 50 when he died.
Will you be watching his documentary?
Cited here: Tale Tela
Are or were you a victim of domestic abuse?
Have you ever been a victim of rape? Are you in a situation that is getting the best of you and you need to find that inner strength to leave? You may need to read Ebony's story. Purchase your copy now!
Bossladywriter
Bossladywriter
R & B Singer Lloyd Needs to Endorse My Novel "Ebony the Beloved" and Cease Entertaining These Losers(ettes)
Welcome back, international fans! Today, I'm in a blogoholic mood (as usual) and I'm going to roast, post, expose, and dispose! That's right. I'm going to voice MY opinions on MY blog today! The "fuckery stench" is assaulting my nose and it's making me gag convulsively! Therefore it needs to be addressed and laid to rest! Uh ha! (In my rapper Khia voice)
(Shake my damn head at Lloyd) Lloyd, did you get the telegram in the UK yet? lol Perv Fatti (Irv Gotti)recently defecated on your good character via Rap Fix Live. I just hope he wiped his ass properly. Because his Georgia Dome sized frame, requires him to remove every lint, crust, cum, and shit particles he amasses in his massive mud hole. But with his short stubby fingers, that task would be as hard as upholding his relevance. Now, there's two sides to every story and I've listened to both grievances. Lloyd, you expressed your experiences at the rubble (The Inc) with class, pizazz, diplomacy and poise. While Perv Fatti on the other hand, took a huge chunk out of your good name, swallowed it, and shitted it out! I mean..hasn't this man eaten enough already?! If he isn't getting wider by the food he consumes, he's indefinitely getting wider by the names he consume. LMAO! Food and "overly cocky stocky bastard'ism" is a helluva drug, Perv Fatti. Lloyd, when you were under Perv Fatt's roster, your first album went gold, your second album went platinum, but your third album went double lumber wood. Nuff said. Your third album was good. It just wasn't received or promoted well. Thanks to Perv Fatti, of course.
Instead of Perv Fatti investing his time into building and catapulting your name, he expended all his time and efforts on Ja Fool's album (which became a drop flop after all) and then Ja Fool's simple ass landed in the rock for tax evasion. What a waste! Ya see, Lloyd, this is the reason why you're so damn underrated now. Your talent and presence should not be brushed off like newly released flatulence. And you deserve waaaaaay more support and respect than that! And your credibility is more intact than Vivica Fox's surgically enhanced face. Perv Fatti said he wants to be the president for Def Jam, but he couldn't even save Murder Inc or his artists. Chile Boo! (In my rapper Khia voice). Perv Fatti, if you keep smelling your funky ass self any further, you're going to croak from "Fat, funky, bastard'itis" CUT IT OUT! Lol. Lloyd shouldn't even address you, because he's bigger than that AND YOU! If he does respond to you, he should murder you with kindness. The interview you did, has been the biggest hit of your career since the hits you haven't produce in nearly a decade. You should lay off the Ho-Ho's, build your blubbery body, character, AND relevance. You have been inducted into my "Sit Your Parched Irrelevant Ass Down" hall of shame! CHECK PLEASE!
And as for you, Lloyd, you aren't off the hook, my dear! You're still entertaining puppies when you should be stomping with the big dogs (yours truly) you give your all to all these rapscallions who never had your best interest at heart in the first doggone place. Aside from Perv Fatti, you nearly ended your career on a dotted line with this self hating, potty mouth almighty, long throat everlasting batzilla, @SmplyCmplexSoul on Twitter. Read her "I'm a dejected jizz bucket with too much time on my dry ass hands" tweets and you'll see what I'm talking about. In my book, she's also known as, soul blow, because she's a self-proclaimed pipe blower (If you know what I'm alluding to) her other names include coonstress and succubus. The reason I call her a coonstress is because she's more ghetto than a knock-off Louis Vuitton tote at a liquor store. And the reason I call her a succubus is because she's a malicious female sex demon. That's right. And not only that, she'll stop at nothing to reap what she think is owed to her. Even if she has to blow a man's instrument to obtain money. Does Aisha Marie Coffey ring a bell to you, Lloyd? It's been nearly three years and she's still a broke, worn-up, worn-out, and disgruntled groupie-twat. It's amazingly ironic and metaphoric that her last name is Coffey, she's black and she's bitter! Some of you are probably wondering why I'm ripping this broad a new orifice. Long story short, she used to criticize me for tweeting Lloyd all day and she used to sling vitriol at Lloyd on his own Kyte channel. And not only that, she openly spoke about the "rendezvous" she had with him when he was in her neck of the woods while on tour.
I'm not going to go into details, because I'm sure if/when she reads this blog post, she'll know what the hell I'm talking about. And Lloyd, if you had any sexual dealings with that cunt mouth broad, I hope you disinfected your penis with Lysol Disinfectant Spray and lemon scented bleach. Even after wearing a condom! That is all! LMAO!!!!!
This girl profusely swallows anti-depressant meds in the same fashion she swallows children. I mean..who wants to have someone represent them not knowing that they lack internet professionalism while inviting random people into their bedroom over the internet. No one cares to know that your "Mister" ate your decayed funk box the night before. And how many ailments do you have, girl? What the f*ck is really going on (In my Rapper Khia voice) LMAO! Telling strangers and friends all of your business over the internet, isn't the business, sweetie. You need to revisit your shrink again. And get to the rooter and the tooter of your deep rooted bitterness. And you're also a drunkard. Girl, you're a walking bar with a messed up 0-100 personality. Not only is it internally unattractive, but it's also doing a number on that pale chicken colored face of yours. Uh ha.
You constantly complain about having muscle spasms, chronic coughs, and PMS. I'm not one to praise another person's plight, but your plight, (Clapping until the palm of my hands turn RUBY red). The name of your "company" was called, Seven7Nine Media Group. Whatever happened to that "company", miss thing? Was it that you were hoping to secure Lloyd as a client, but was kicked to the curb at the last minute? lol Or was it because you were hoping to earn 30 stacks in two months, but couldn't afford to keep up with the nominal monthly domain payments?! Trial and error much? Naw, you're just broke as blaze! lol Remember you told me that Lloyd was going to be your client and that you'll be earning 30 grand in two months? What happened? LMAO! Or were you under the illusion and delusion that this man was going to drop 30 stacks on your dirt napping ass company to resurrect it? LMAO!!!!!!!! I told you it was a pipe dream. Lloyd, I'm glad you dropped this broad, because she would have been the demise of your damn career! Hiring a PR person who watch porn, while bashing your name, and booking you for shows, would have been VERY unbecoming LOL!!!!! Lloyd, you have to be careful about the company you admit into your inner circle! InfilTRAITORS with ulterior motives will drag you to the sewer gutter with them! Miss thing, you should stick to what you know: Working for the government slave master and staying in your lane. You're not mentally-fit for this business. CHECK PLEASE!
Look what the Baltimore sewer river spewed in!
At first, I wasn't going to ugly-fy my page with her struggling, lush 45 year old face, but I feel people should witness the kinds of filth Lloyd does/has entertain(ed). This don' make no doggone sense (In my Bernie Mac voice). And I've already spoken my peace about his faux ass fan club. They're more like a clique than a damn fan club. I don't find the need to waste anymore keystrokes on them, because I don't see Lloyd wasting keystrokes by retweeting anything they tweet anymore. LMAO! Moving on....
Lloyd, I'm an author with a REAL career who wants to see you scroll up the ladder. You don't get the accolades you deserve and that's why I mentioned your name in my book a few times. My book has mass appeal and it will benefit the both of us. I'm endorsing you, therefore you should endorse my book. I have the ability and the credibility to do it! Your time shouldn't be expended on people who never gave a damn about you from the beginning. My intentions are genuine and I'd love to network with you and laugh all the way to the bank with you. You really need to step your game up, Mister Beaks! You could be a whole lot bigger if you filter out the bullshitters. You need to call a sista! AND PLEASE HIRE A DAMN STYLIST! LOL! That alarming neon yellow ass Adida sweat suit you donned the other day, nearly burned my eyes out of my head! And you need to stay out of Bruno Mars's closet. That little ass Fred Sanford gray hat you wore was some HELL-TO-THE-NAWL! If Tamika Foster is too busy to style you, I know of an impressionable fashion connoisseur named, Cora Jennings. She even offered to style you for free. And I know she'll do an outstanding job. You need a fashion fix! lol
And while you're at it, my book is available for purchase via Amazon and it's going to take off! I know you're busy touring and all. So, I plan to pay you a visit very soon, Sammy Davis Jr Jr. IT'S YOUNG GOLDIE BABAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!
Sha boing boing boing! :-)
Bossladywriter
(Shake my damn head at Lloyd) Lloyd, did you get the telegram in the UK yet? lol Perv Fatti (Irv Gotti)recently defecated on your good character via Rap Fix Live. I just hope he wiped his ass properly. Because his Georgia Dome sized frame, requires him to remove every lint, crust, cum, and shit particles he amasses in his massive mud hole. But with his short stubby fingers, that task would be as hard as upholding his relevance. Now, there's two sides to every story and I've listened to both grievances. Lloyd, you expressed your experiences at the rubble (The Inc) with class, pizazz, diplomacy and poise. While Perv Fatti on the other hand, took a huge chunk out of your good name, swallowed it, and shitted it out! I mean..hasn't this man eaten enough already?! If he isn't getting wider by the food he consumes, he's indefinitely getting wider by the names he consume. LMAO! Food and "overly cocky stocky bastard'ism" is a helluva drug, Perv Fatti. Lloyd, when you were under Perv Fatt's roster, your first album went gold, your second album went platinum, but your third album went double lumber wood. Nuff said. Your third album was good. It just wasn't received or promoted well. Thanks to Perv Fatti, of course.
Instead of Perv Fatti investing his time into building and catapulting your name, he expended all his time and efforts on Ja Fool's album (which became a drop flop after all) and then Ja Fool's simple ass landed in the rock for tax evasion. What a waste! Ya see, Lloyd, this is the reason why you're so damn underrated now. Your talent and presence should not be brushed off like newly released flatulence. And you deserve waaaaaay more support and respect than that! And your credibility is more intact than Vivica Fox's surgically enhanced face. Perv Fatti said he wants to be the president for Def Jam, but he couldn't even save Murder Inc or his artists. Chile Boo! (In my rapper Khia voice). Perv Fatti, if you keep smelling your funky ass self any further, you're going to croak from "Fat, funky, bastard'itis" CUT IT OUT! Lol. Lloyd shouldn't even address you, because he's bigger than that AND YOU! If he does respond to you, he should murder you with kindness. The interview you did, has been the biggest hit of your career since the hits you haven't produce in nearly a decade. You should lay off the Ho-Ho's, build your blubbery body, character, AND relevance. You have been inducted into my "Sit Your Parched Irrelevant Ass Down" hall of shame! CHECK PLEASE!
And as for you, Lloyd, you aren't off the hook, my dear! You're still entertaining puppies when you should be stomping with the big dogs (yours truly) you give your all to all these rapscallions who never had your best interest at heart in the first doggone place. Aside from Perv Fatti, you nearly ended your career on a dotted line with this self hating, potty mouth almighty, long throat everlasting batzilla, @SmplyCmplexSoul on Twitter. Read her "I'm a dejected jizz bucket with too much time on my dry ass hands" tweets and you'll see what I'm talking about. In my book, she's also known as, soul blow, because she's a self-proclaimed pipe blower (If you know what I'm alluding to) her other names include coonstress and succubus. The reason I call her a coonstress is because she's more ghetto than a knock-off Louis Vuitton tote at a liquor store. And the reason I call her a succubus is because she's a malicious female sex demon. That's right. And not only that, she'll stop at nothing to reap what she think is owed to her. Even if she has to blow a man's instrument to obtain money. Does Aisha Marie Coffey ring a bell to you, Lloyd? It's been nearly three years and she's still a broke, worn-up, worn-out, and disgruntled groupie-twat. It's amazingly ironic and metaphoric that her last name is Coffey, she's black and she's bitter! Some of you are probably wondering why I'm ripping this broad a new orifice. Long story short, she used to criticize me for tweeting Lloyd all day and she used to sling vitriol at Lloyd on his own Kyte channel. And not only that, she openly spoke about the "rendezvous" she had with him when he was in her neck of the woods while on tour.
I'm not going to go into details, because I'm sure if/when she reads this blog post, she'll know what the hell I'm talking about. And Lloyd, if you had any sexual dealings with that cunt mouth broad, I hope you disinfected your penis with Lysol Disinfectant Spray and lemon scented bleach. Even after wearing a condom! That is all! LMAO!!!!!
This girl profusely swallows anti-depressant meds in the same fashion she swallows children. I mean..who wants to have someone represent them not knowing that they lack internet professionalism while inviting random people into their bedroom over the internet. No one cares to know that your "Mister" ate your decayed funk box the night before. And how many ailments do you have, girl? What the f*ck is really going on (In my Rapper Khia voice) LMAO! Telling strangers and friends all of your business over the internet, isn't the business, sweetie. You need to revisit your shrink again. And get to the rooter and the tooter of your deep rooted bitterness. And you're also a drunkard. Girl, you're a walking bar with a messed up 0-100 personality. Not only is it internally unattractive, but it's also doing a number on that pale chicken colored face of yours. Uh ha.
You constantly complain about having muscle spasms, chronic coughs, and PMS. I'm not one to praise another person's plight, but your plight, (Clapping until the palm of my hands turn RUBY red). The name of your "company" was called, Seven7Nine Media Group. Whatever happened to that "company", miss thing? Was it that you were hoping to secure Lloyd as a client, but was kicked to the curb at the last minute? lol Or was it because you were hoping to earn 30 stacks in two months, but couldn't afford to keep up with the nominal monthly domain payments?! Trial and error much? Naw, you're just broke as blaze! lol Remember you told me that Lloyd was going to be your client and that you'll be earning 30 grand in two months? What happened? LMAO! Or were you under the illusion and delusion that this man was going to drop 30 stacks on your dirt napping ass company to resurrect it? LMAO!!!!!!!! I told you it was a pipe dream. Lloyd, I'm glad you dropped this broad, because she would have been the demise of your damn career! Hiring a PR person who watch porn, while bashing your name, and booking you for shows, would have been VERY unbecoming LOL!!!!! Lloyd, you have to be careful about the company you admit into your inner circle! InfilTRAITORS with ulterior motives will drag you to the sewer gutter with them! Miss thing, you should stick to what you know: Working for the government slave master and staying in your lane. You're not mentally-fit for this business. CHECK PLEASE!
Look what the Baltimore sewer river spewed in!
At first, I wasn't going to ugly-fy my page with her struggling, lush 45 year old face, but I feel people should witness the kinds of filth Lloyd does/has entertain(ed). This don' make no doggone sense (In my Bernie Mac voice). And I've already spoken my peace about his faux ass fan club. They're more like a clique than a damn fan club. I don't find the need to waste anymore keystrokes on them, because I don't see Lloyd wasting keystrokes by retweeting anything they tweet anymore. LMAO! Moving on....
Lloyd, I'm an author with a REAL career who wants to see you scroll up the ladder. You don't get the accolades you deserve and that's why I mentioned your name in my book a few times. My book has mass appeal and it will benefit the both of us. I'm endorsing you, therefore you should endorse my book. I have the ability and the credibility to do it! Your time shouldn't be expended on people who never gave a damn about you from the beginning. My intentions are genuine and I'd love to network with you and laugh all the way to the bank with you. You really need to step your game up, Mister Beaks! You could be a whole lot bigger if you filter out the bullshitters. You need to call a sista! AND PLEASE HIRE A DAMN STYLIST! LOL! That alarming neon yellow ass Adida sweat suit you donned the other day, nearly burned my eyes out of my head! And you need to stay out of Bruno Mars's closet. That little ass Fred Sanford gray hat you wore was some HELL-TO-THE-NAWL! If Tamika Foster is too busy to style you, I know of an impressionable fashion connoisseur named, Cora Jennings. She even offered to style you for free. And I know she'll do an outstanding job. You need a fashion fix! lol
And while you're at it, my book is available for purchase via Amazon and it's going to take off! I know you're busy touring and all. So, I plan to pay you a visit very soon, Sammy Davis Jr Jr. IT'S YOUNG GOLDIE BABAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!
Sha boing boing boing! :-)
Bossladywriter
Thursday, October 6, 2011
How to Naturally Thicken Your Hair
by Sherrell Dorsey of Organic Beauty Vixen
My head is big. I’ve dealt with that fact my entire life and struggled with finding the right hats to add style without drawing attention to the circumference. Although my head is pretty voluptuous my hair is pretty thin. Keeping my hair natural has allowed me to keep up the appearance of thick hair but I’ve always envied those with hair to spare.
I did everything to get that full mane including adding an egg to my shampoo and over-saturating my hair with conditioners all to end up in vain. Now, since my hair is locked, I’ve been able to focus on how to pair my normal hair care routine with natural treatments to keep my locks healthy, breakage-free and nurtured.
Here are a few quick ways to keep your hair strong and naturally thicken your hair:
Hair Vitamins – I’ve been on my Viviscal kick for the past few months which has helped to add incredible moisture to my hair. My edges have been regrowing slowly as well but I’m also wearing my hair down more these days to prevent further breakage.
Natural Oils- Get your aromatherapy on by massaging your scalp regularly with natural oils you can easily apply to your scalp and hair. Oils like lavender, rosemary, jojoba, and grapeseed are natural solutions to help thicken your hair as you circulate your blood flow and encourage hair growth.
Eggs – Adding an egg to my shampoo wasn’t enough. Try mixing up a quick hair mask by applying the egg onto your hair, massage in and leave it on for no longer than five minutes. Do this egg mask treatment weekly to add protein to your hair and strengthen your strands.
Stay away – Shampoos that contain sulfates like sodium laureth sulfate can strip your hair of it’s natural oils. Sulfates are detergents, terrible for color, and give your shampoo that lather at the expense of your precious locks. Carol’s Daughter Monoi collection is what I’ve been using the past few months that contain coconut oil and help to reduce breakage and strengthen hair. Paraben and Sulfate free my locks have never felt softer and more healthy.
What have you done to naturally thicken your hair? Please share your tips and remedies with me.
CN Says:
*singing* you already know...
By now, I'm sure you're aware that I love big hair. For me, a steady vitamin regimen, henna and low manipulation styles coupled with finger detangling get 'er done.
Vitamins- Still taking Green Vibrance... not as regularly as I should, but at least 4 times a week
Henna- I've been regularly henna'ing for 2 months now and plan to do another treatment next weekend. I have 1-3 inch long hairs sprouting out around my hair line... behind my ears, at my nape... baby hairs popping! It's amazing how the henna can strengthen strands that may have been to weak to grow out previously. In a year or so, I should definitely be able to detect an increase in volume.
Low manipulation styles- It's simple really. The less I play in my hair, the fewer strands I lose prematurely to damage. I also find that using my fingers, as opposed to a paddle brush or comb, keeps more strands on my head.
***************************************
Sherrell Dorsey is a natural beauty expert, writer, speaker and advocate of health, wellness and sustainability in communities of color. In addition to creating OrganicBeautyVixen.com, Sherrell writes beauty articles for Tyra Banks's beauty and fashion site TypeF.com, Jones Magazine, MySalonScoop.com and Posh Beauty. Follow Sherrell on twitter at www.twitter.com/organicvixen and connect with her on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/OBVMedia
Cited here: Curly Nikki
My head is big. I’ve dealt with that fact my entire life and struggled with finding the right hats to add style without drawing attention to the circumference. Although my head is pretty voluptuous my hair is pretty thin. Keeping my hair natural has allowed me to keep up the appearance of thick hair but I’ve always envied those with hair to spare.
I did everything to get that full mane including adding an egg to my shampoo and over-saturating my hair with conditioners all to end up in vain. Now, since my hair is locked, I’ve been able to focus on how to pair my normal hair care routine with natural treatments to keep my locks healthy, breakage-free and nurtured.
Here are a few quick ways to keep your hair strong and naturally thicken your hair:
Hair Vitamins – I’ve been on my Viviscal kick for the past few months which has helped to add incredible moisture to my hair. My edges have been regrowing slowly as well but I’m also wearing my hair down more these days to prevent further breakage.
Natural Oils- Get your aromatherapy on by massaging your scalp regularly with natural oils you can easily apply to your scalp and hair. Oils like lavender, rosemary, jojoba, and grapeseed are natural solutions to help thicken your hair as you circulate your blood flow and encourage hair growth.
Eggs – Adding an egg to my shampoo wasn’t enough. Try mixing up a quick hair mask by applying the egg onto your hair, massage in and leave it on for no longer than five minutes. Do this egg mask treatment weekly to add protein to your hair and strengthen your strands.
Stay away – Shampoos that contain sulfates like sodium laureth sulfate can strip your hair of it’s natural oils. Sulfates are detergents, terrible for color, and give your shampoo that lather at the expense of your precious locks. Carol’s Daughter Monoi collection is what I’ve been using the past few months that contain coconut oil and help to reduce breakage and strengthen hair. Paraben and Sulfate free my locks have never felt softer and more healthy.
What have you done to naturally thicken your hair? Please share your tips and remedies with me.
CN Says:
*singing* you already know...
By now, I'm sure you're aware that I love big hair. For me, a steady vitamin regimen, henna and low manipulation styles coupled with finger detangling get 'er done.
Vitamins- Still taking Green Vibrance... not as regularly as I should, but at least 4 times a week
Henna- I've been regularly henna'ing for 2 months now and plan to do another treatment next weekend. I have 1-3 inch long hairs sprouting out around my hair line... behind my ears, at my nape... baby hairs popping! It's amazing how the henna can strengthen strands that may have been to weak to grow out previously. In a year or so, I should definitely be able to detect an increase in volume.
Low manipulation styles- It's simple really. The less I play in my hair, the fewer strands I lose prematurely to damage. I also find that using my fingers, as opposed to a paddle brush or comb, keeps more strands on my head.
***************************************
Sherrell Dorsey is a natural beauty expert, writer, speaker and advocate of health, wellness and sustainability in communities of color. In addition to creating OrganicBeautyVixen.com, Sherrell writes beauty articles for Tyra Banks's beauty and fashion site TypeF.com, Jones Magazine, MySalonScoop.com and Posh Beauty. Follow Sherrell on twitter at www.twitter.com/organicvixen and connect with her on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/OBVMedia
Cited here: Curly Nikki
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
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