In honor of me feeling like a young black slave for the past two weeks, and my having to go in to work at 8 in the morning, and my back feeling like a slab of frozen meat (please, Oasis Day Spa, have your power back on in the morning…), I have only semi-useful information:

-Running With Scissors, by Augusten Burroughs, is going to be a movie. Now for real, someone has to check it out with me.

-Bacardi and grape juice is not a substitute for wine or muscle relaxers. If you remember nothing else, remember that.

The Bacardi and grape juice really seemed like a good idea at the time. They can’t all be winners.

A while ago while checking in for my appointment with the woman-doctor, I was selected to undertake a semi-anonymous survey about “black women’s attitudes, knowledge, and experiences with sexual health and the ‘down low’ epidemic.” I did it for the free t-shirt. I wish there had been a comment box, for if there had been I would have written in large, black box letters “DON’T BELIEVE THE HYPE!”

The “down low” is a new name for the same ol’ thing. Liberace was on the down low. The daddy from the Brady Bunch was on the down low. Rock Hudson was on the down low. Why do we [black people] have to set ourselves apart on some silly shit? I will agree that the black mainstream is much less tolerant of homosexuality than the white mainstream, but I disagree that there are massively more “straight” black men who sleep with other men on the side than there are “straight” white men who do the same. Unless you are of the opinion that black men are simply so damn sexually magnificent that even they can’t stay away from themselves, it just doesn’t make any sense. (I mean, they are magnificent, but damn.)

So I finished the survey. It asked a whole bunch of personal questions to say it wasn’t so anonymous… maybe I don’t want Brocker Health Center knowing whether or not I screw black guys exclusively or dip into the cream from time to time. Can a chick have jungle fever on the low? I wonder how successful/accurate their results ended up being, because I know I felt a little uncomfortable answering sexual risk questions right before a gyno exam (do you always use a condom? are you afraid of getting AIDS from a down low man?) and I’m not even doing anything. The UNCC t-shirt was nice though. My first one. And all because of a laundry-detergent rash.

Yesterday, I got this in my facebook message box:

CRUSH is introducing a new THURSDAY night jumpoff… Come with your best swagger, because this is for the Young, Fly, and Flashy!! So Fellas throw on that button-up and Ladies do what you normally do!!

DJ Tab D’Bia$$i, The Million Dolla’ DJ of Power 98 will be on the turntables. LISTEN TO POWER 98 FOR MORE INFO!! You never know who you might rub elbows with.

CRUSH is the premiere Club Uptown right beside the Westin Hotel. If you haven’t been in CRUSH, you haven’t experienced a REAL club!!

This would be just another club advertisement, and draw no rancor from me (y’all know I love the club) if this hadn’t appears a couple of weeks ago after a some vaguely discriminatory practices at another club:

Another example would be for those of yall who have tried to go to Crush on Wednesdays, and have been forced to leave, either because you didn’t have a second i.d., or because you weren’t dressed “appropriately.” At the door, white people get through security very fluidly. But let a n*gga get to the door. Here comes the array of requirements. Not only will you have to show your i.d. for age verification, but if you’re black you will surely have to present a college i.d. Secondly, they have a list of inappropriate attire, which I have noticed, gets longer every semester. It started with do rags and hats, and now encompasses timberlands, air force ones, all basketball shoes (ha), athletic wear, long t shirts, baggy jeans, and even ‘jeans with writing’, so I can’t even sport my Girbauds in there. Now if you’re a black male, take a quick mental thought of what you have in your wardrobe, and tell me if there’s anything you own that you can wear to the Crush.

My point? They are singling us out so as to limit the number of n*ggas that walk through their doors, whatever their motive may be. Crush is the most extreme example, but it isn’t the only club that follows such racist guidelines.

Closing: THIS SH*T HAS TO STOP. We (black students) need to find out how we can end this insolence. We’re in the year 2005, and I’m appalled at how things like this can happen, legally.

And these came from the same group. Aint that some shit?

I’m all about people doing what the heck they want to do with their own private establishments. If I owned a club, I’d bar hoochie wear and perms; that is and should be my right. And if I were a girl with a perm, instead of trying to slick curl my hair or complain about “that bitch and her bitch ass club,” I wouldn’t stick a foot on the premises.

But apparently, young black people are like, immune to that type of thinking. Even if a place treats you like shit on Wednesday night, it’s okay to go there Thursday when the black DJ is playing. They love black people, right? So wrong, so wrong. You’re still putting money in people’s pockets who obviously are happy to have it in a controlled atmosphere, but not when it’s drunk white girl night. And you do know that is the issue, right?

Granted, a man is less likely to wild out in church shoes, but the root issue here is white women, which is essentially the root issue of like, everything that happens on the globe (men live for sex, white men rule the world, white men rule the world around sex… with white women.) Why else would most black men go to a whack white club in the first place? (White club does not = whack, but white club = shitty music and nondancing = whack, for us darkies and our dancing asses.) I swear, sometimes I feel like Lawrence Fishburne in School Daze hollering at niggas to WAKE [THE FUCK] UP!

No, I’m not about to tirade about white women, because I have a lovely caucasian aunt who is married to my lovely negroid uncle and they have a lovely biracial baby and defy all the negative stereotypes of BDWC theory. However, I am tirading about dumb people and our willingness to complain when people treat us like crap but still throw money at them whenever its convenient. I’m actually surprised at the public outcry over the racial incident at this Greek store in Nashville, TN, but I wonder how long it will be before people stop wanting to drive a couple extra miles across town to pick up their big blue and gold umbrellas and go back to this man and his horrible wife and help them put some more food on the table. Why do we do this crap to ourselves? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: my generation isn’t worth shit when it comes to seeing a problem, making a sacrifice, and making a change through any means necessary. We would rather see a problem and complain to high heaven while bending over and taking it in the ass for an indefinite period of time. We can’t seem to get it that the triumph isn’t in the vocalizing of an issue, it’s in the getting off of one’s duff and doing something about it.

All I know is, I’m staying my ass at home tonight.

T. Hussle – “She’s a Virgin Too”

Now, the first thing I thought of after seeing this title was T.I. and Pharrell’s “But She a Freak Though”... but I downloaded it anyway. It’s actually a sweet lil’ song… the way I took it. Yes, I’m not ashamed to say that I respect my Granny and keep the goodies on clink, not for any particular religious or moral reasons, but mostly because I’m selfish and I usually don’t do anything unless there’s a noticable benefit for me involved. To date, I haven’t yet met a gentleman who’s enough of a pro to override the cons. (And I mean that in whatever way you want to take it.)

I have at least one very good friend who shares the same opinion, and while sometimes it looks like we’re going to end up being lonely old ladies with a million cats, I look at my other friends fretting over pregancy scares and crazy infections and I just don’t want to deal with it. Honestly, I have enough to worry about as it is. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not exactly a nun (and I mean that however you want to take it). But I made a conscious decision several years ago that I was not under any circumstances going to have a kid grow up under the same conditions that I did and the older I get, the more comfortable I am in that decision.

So I’m not going to sit here and say that I’m not having sex until I’m married or engaged, because I honestly don’t know. I mean, Gary Dourdan could show up anytime. All I know is, it’s a hot song. Take that or leave it.

My infatuation with Aaron McGruder nonwithstanding, the Boondocks on Adult Swim was actually really funny. Something seems off about Grandad’s voice, but he is funny as hell. I was also questioning the animation style, but I think it might grow on me.

This was one occasion where the promo editing really didn’t do the program justice, because I was a little dissapointed by what I had seen; but through either bad editing or clever marketing the funniest moments were completely surprising. I guess next week will determine whether I was just pleasantly surprised or whether the show is actually as hilarious as I found it.

Quote of the week:
“Gay? No, I’m not gay. I mean, I think a man looks good if he got good hair and a ponytail, but I’m not gay.” © Grandad

Today also wrapped up the 48-hour What’s Happenin’ marathon. Has a better character than Rerun ever graced the small screen? If anyone knows the new regular airtime on TV Land, let me know.