People Are So Effing Nosey, Man.

As a preface to this post, I should mention that I’m having a pretty important meeting with the Deputy Director and Program Director of the organization I work with regarding a potential shift in duties here. After just weeks on the job, I was approached by the woman to whom I report about her need for someone to handle/take care of/oversee the operational aspects of her department.

She said, because of the current economy and the State’s new-found interest in justifying every single non-profit dollar spent, she needed to focus more on improving the content of the programming and less on running them. Most importantly, to me at least, she wanted to groom me to step into that role. Today is the day I “interview” for this position.

With that said, let’s talk about some nosey fucking people, man.

I walk into the office today looking a lil nicer than usual, not a suit, but a nice black v-neck sweater over a black button-up and plum tie with little black and white zebras on them (hey, I have a thing for J. Crew…sue me), some fresh grey slacks, and a good black driving loafer. I couldn’t even get my first cup of coffee before this chick (white girl that gives off Dundalk/who obviously gets too effing familiar with people she barely knows that works in the training department) comes into my workspace starting nonsense.

WG: Oooooooooo!! Look at you!! What are you all dressed up for? Hot date tonight?

Me: (visibly annoyed) Good Morning, -------- .

WG: Why are you all dressed up? Does your tie have cows on it? That looks expensive.

Me: Am I dressed-up or am I dressed to walk into a professional environment? These are zebras, not cows. I have site visits today. You know that.

[snipped to cut right to the chase]

WG: Sooooooooo, it has nothing to do with that meeting you have today with Linda and Jean?

Me: What? How did you know I had a meeting with Linda and Jean?

WG: Because I checked your (Outlook) calendar and it’s on there.

Me: Why?

WG: (realizes that she done fucked up) Ummmm, cus I wanted to see what time you were scheduled to come in today.

Me: I’m here every day by 9am. I’ve never NOT been here by 9am. You know I’m here by 9am…every day.

WG: I mean…I just…So, what’s the meeting about? You’re going out for the Ops position and you didn’t tell me?!? How much are they offering for that? What do you make now?

Me: That’s not really something I’m interested in talking about. I’ve got a ton of work before I leave the office this afternoon and I’m under a tight deadline for something for Margaret. I’ve gotta get started.

WG: (taken aback) Fine. Then, just tell me how much more is it than you make now?

Me: I’ve really got a lot of work to do .

Now…I usually don’t shed too negative a light on work-related stuff on here cus it can get you in trouble, but fuck it.

How dare she concern herself with my clothes and my money when she wears the same damn thing at least twice a week?!? There’s only so many ways you can style up that peach lace-lined cami with that black Cardigan and/or grey pullover, hon. Instead of focusing on my "expensive looking" purple J. Crew tie with zebras (that I actually got for free), you’d be best served by trying to sniff out some bargains of your own instead of sniffing out my labels.

And then how dare her be brazen enough to think we’re familiar enough to talk about money. I don’t discuss salaries and such with people. Period. If you offered me a million dollars to correctly guess how much my Ma or my sister make, I’d be shit out of luck.

Hell, my dearest friends and I don’t discuss each other’s money. Take Nia, my good, good Judy Dench, for example. Nia and I tell each other some shit we’d only trust to the most confident of confidants. We talk ad nausem about the freaky shit we do in our bedrooms (among other things), but we’ve NEVER talked salaries. It’s none of my business what she makes and vice-versa. It’s tacky to ask anyone about their salary.

Ugh! Talk about starting my day off on the wrong note.

It's a damn shame I have to say this at 10am, but...Hoe, sit down!

All Hail ObamALLAH!!!!!!!!

There are high hopes for big change when Barack Obama becomes president of the United States of America in about two months. The expectations for this man are approaching euphoria -- and deliria -- and that could set the stage for a big disappointment.

I’m sometimes amazed by people’s comments regarding this man: “Oh, I’m 7 months behind on my mortgage and am already into foreclosure, but it’s OK. Barack will take office soon. He’ll save me.”

No, ma’am, he won't save you. Although you may have gotten a chain email to the contrary, our President-elect doesn't walk on water or part red-colored seas.

Barack Obama will not save you from having to pay your bills. He will not absolve you from your delinquent Sprint bill, clear up your credit or make your baby daddy pay his child support on time. He won't clear up any outstanding warrants or make your kid perform better in math class. Having a black man as President does not mean you will no longer have to do jury duty or pay taxes. It just ain’t gonna happen. I’m just saying it so you’re prepared for the long haul.

Now, of course you'll have some people who oppose Mr. Obama's election (like our very own bitter and salty black Republican, Blaq-N-Mild) who will claim that my admonishment to all Americans is somehow tempering expectations for an inadaquate President-elect. That isn't the case at all.

Reality is, we've got huge problems in this country and no one is going to wave a magic wand and fix them in a matter of weeks or months. It's likely going to take several years, if, in fact, they're fixable.

Here's the question: Are expectations, particularly those of black people, too high for Barack Obama's presidency?

LOL @ McDonald's Peddling Chicken To Blacks In A Shitty Economy

You coloreds must be taking the bait though. Last week, McDonald's reported an 11-percent increase in profits in the third quarter.

I am not mad at them at all. The way I see it, you dance with the one who brought you to prom, or, perhaps, the wedding reception. As long as they don't start serving watermelon pies and transform all their drive-thrus into front porches, I'm good.

Home For the Holidays...With A Twist

I don't believe in the idea of "coming out". It has nothing to do with being afraid or ashamed of who I am or what I do, cus trust me when I tell you that I do what I do when I do it...if you know what I'm sayin'. To me, it's silly for the expectation to be for me to announce the sex of the person with whom I share my most intimate moments to the world for no other reason than because they happen to be the same sex as I am.

Don't get me wrong, if I tell you, I tell you, but this whole grandiose dog and pony show that some people put on is a stupid concept pushed by ridiculous heteros who think they are entitled to full disclosure about everything including what (and whom) I do in my bedroom.

It's pretty absurd concept when you really consider it. Imagine a straight dude sitting his family down to, in a most dramatic fashion, proclaim his love of females and all things vaginal. I bet you never thought of it that way. Other gays may subscribe to other beliefs, which is fine by me if it works for them, but you'll never catch me having a press conference about taking one for the Gipper.

With that said, my family and I have never had the "conversation". They've poked, they've prodded, they've snooped, they've asked around, and while I'm sure they know, they've never heard it from the horse's mouth. Perhaps because someone's usually in it.

I kid, I kid. Anywho...

My Ma calls me like two days ago to ask about my plans for Thanksgiving, which is strange because I've never not been home for the holidays. The telephone conversation went like this:

Ma: What are you doing for Thanksgiving.

Me: Ummm, eating with you guys.

Ma: Oh, ok. (slight pause) You know you're welcome to bring friends over for dinner, right?

Me: Ma, my friends have their own families to eat with. I'll be there though.

Ma: I know, I know. I just wanted to let you know that they'd be welcome. It doesn't matter who they are...male or female.

Me: (chuckle) Ma, you're a mess.

Ma: What?

Me: Nothing. I'll be there though.

So, we started talking about other stuff and then I mentioned that a girl I went to high school with was preggos and expecting next month.

Me: Oh! So, Laura called me today to tell me that Elana is pregnant. Her baby is due next month.

Ma: Elana...Elana. Is that the girl who's mother was German?

Me: No, Ma, that's Carmen. I haven't seen her in years. Last I heard, she was a lesbian.

Ma: And that's OK. It's OK that she's a lesbian. We have a cousin who's a lesbian, you know.

Me: There are lots of lesbians, Ma.

Now, my mother's no dummy. She knows that I'm damn near 25 years old and she hasn't seen any girls around, no talk of kids or marriage, etc. I'm also sure she's come to grips with the fact that her only son is a homo and truth be told, I think she's honestly fine with it.

Because she's been so good lately, I've been thinking about telling her this Thanksgiving...over dinner, perhaps. I envision our talk going something like this:

Me: Ma, this turkey is wonderful. Nice and tender and juicy...just how I like my meat.

Family: (awkward silence)

Me: Can someone please pass the rolls?

Me: (takes a bite) Wow!!! This buns are nice and warm and soft...kinda like that guy I was in the other night. Well, on second thought, he baby oiled his ass before I dug in.

(pauses and looks around)

Ahhh, margarine!

Family: (blank stares)

Me: Man, that was good. I saved room for dessert. Is anyone else suddenly in the mood for some cakes?!?

I think that'd go over well, right?

Ahh hell!!!! They stealing dicks in Africa now. I done heard it all.

This is an old story, but it's still gut, well, crotch-wrenching. Either way, I had never seen it before, so it's news to me.

A couple things to note after reading this mess:

#1 - If somebody ever thought about pondering even considering the very notion of stealing my dick, we'd have problems. I like my little guy too much to part ways with him now.

#2 - LOL @ these people for thinking someone can really put a hex on you and steal or shrink your dick.

#3 - Not that I really had much of a desire, but please smack me if I ever suggest vacationing in Africa.

Goodness gracious.

---

Lynchings in Congo as penis theft panic hits capital

Tue Apr 22, 2008
1:21pm EDT

By Joe Bavier

KINSHASA (Reuters) - Police in Congo have arrested 13 suspected sorcerers accused of using black magic to steal or shrink men's penises after a wave of panic and attempted lynchings triggered by the alleged witchcraft.

Reports of so-called penis snatching are not uncommon in West Africa, where belief in traditional religions and witchcraft remains widespread, and where ritual killings to obtain blood or body parts still occur.

Rumors of penis theft began circulating last week in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo's sprawling capital of some 8 million inhabitants. They quickly dominated radio call-in shows, with listeners advised to beware of fellow passengers in communal taxis wearing gold rings.

Purported victims, 14 of whom were also detained by police, claimed that sorcerers simply touched them to make their genitals shrink or disappear, in what some residents said was an attempt to extort cash with the promise of a cure.

"You just have to be accused of that, and people come after you. We've had a number of attempted lynchings. ... You see them covered in marks after being beaten," Kinshasa's police chief, Jean-Dieudonne Oleko, told Reuters on Tuesday.

Police arrested the accused sorcerers and their victims in an effort to avoid the sort of bloodshed seen in Ghana a decade ago, when 12 suspected penis snatchers were beaten to death by angry mobs. The 27 men have since been released.

"I'm tempted to say it's one huge joke," Oleko said.

"But when you try to tell the victims that their penises are still there, they tell you that it's become tiny or that they've become impotent. To that I tell them, 'How do you know if you haven't gone home and tried it'," he said.

Some Kinshasa residents accuse a separatist sect from nearby Bas-Congo province of being behind the witchcraft in revenge for a recent government crackdown on its members.

"It's real. Just yesterday here, there was a man who was a victim. We saw. What was left was tiny," said 29-year-old Alain Kalala, who sells phone credits near a Kinshasa police station.

(For full Reuters Africa coverage and to have your say on the top issues, visit: africa.reuters.com/ )

(Editing by Nick Tattersall and Mary Gabriel)

© Thomson Reuters 2008. All rights reserved.

Talk about a thong, th-thong, thong, thong...

Sisqo, of Dru Hill "fame".

I think times are tough in this economy and all, but...

You will NAWT have your wedding reception at McDonald's. Also disallowed is a wedding party with a color scheme matching the decor at said McDonald's. A hot mess.