Flawless

People love you like
a diamond in their hand.
In awe of the brilliance they hold
but can never possess.


You appear to them
like daybreak in a dirt tunnel.
Like lightning in a clearing.
Like high noon to a drunkard.
Sudden.

People love you like
a diamond in the palm
of a pauper.
Unable to believe
their good fortune.
Astounded by
your clarity.
Priceless.


Cutting through glass and
closely held beliefs
with involuntary ease.
And a hardness known only to those
who grip fearlessly,
desperately.


I know that diamond all too well.


A girl's best friend.
Superlative in qualities.
Blinding all who lay eyes on it
as you reflect their own light.
Sparkling.

The only way to love a diamond?
Hang on tightly.
Let go lightly.




Inspired by Dame Shirley Bassey

Two Steps Forward, Ten Steps Back?

Jim Crow Laws Circa 1963 Sit-In

When is a book release party not a book release party? When several of the guests are denied entry to said party for no explicable reason. That's what happened to writer Teri Woods a few months ago in August and it's the reason that a trendy NYC club is being slapped with a bias lawsuit to the tune of one billion dollars. Woods is the author of the "urban thrillers" True to The Game, Dutch and most recently Alibi. She booked a party to celebrate the release and signing of the last title at Club Greenhouse in the SoHo area of New York City. Reportedly, some guests came from as far as the state of Virginia only to be snubbed at the door. While the nightclub is already known for it's strict door policy- what happened that night looks mighty peculiar upon further observation.




Check out the entire story here. Now, let me be the first to say that I'm a Black woman and am not an avid fan of her genre. Personally, the stories just don't do it for me. But Woods is not a bestselling author for no good reason. She has garnered quite a following with her hip-hop stylized writing and gripping storytelling. She writes about hustlers and sharp women who are more street than corporate. The woman has an impressive fan base where numbers are concerned. People relate to her fiction. Those same people deserved the chance to show their appreciation and support that night, but were turned away. It may be just a coincidence but I don't really believe in those too much. Maybe they looked a little too thugged out? Or perhaps a few sprinkles here and there would have been cool but an entire sea of Black faces on line or inside is not the look Greenhouse is shooting for. Who knows? I'd love to hear their valid reason for supposedly turning them away indiscriminately.


Either way, Teri claims to have text messages from the club owner questioning her party promoter about the guest list. He didn't want the place to be associated with certain people and apparently 300 lb. women are a no-no. This incident can really be seen from two different perspectives. On one hand, you can say that "doorman discretion" played a huge part in who was not allowed in that night. On the other hand, there's the possibility that racism is alive and well and stinkin' up the joint. It doesn't have to be an overt display. There's more than way to skin a cat to hurt Blacks. One billion sounds ludicrous even to me, but chances are that an out of court settlement is the aim. More than likely, the amount won't be disclosed. I'm not overly concerned with those details. I only hope that justice finds its way into this non-fictional tale of unfairness. If you ask me, this one smacks of modern day bigotry. So Fox News found a smug way to make light of the hurt feelings and what some may consider a violation of civil rights. (Surprise, surprise...) You decide. For the most part, people know when they are not wanted. That doesn't mean they have to take it sitting down.

Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women

(from a song)

Perhaps I was born kneeling,
born coughing on the long winter,
born expecting the kiss of mercy,
born with a passion for quickness
and yet, as things progressed,
I learned early about the stockade
or taken out, the fume of the enema.
By two or three I learned not to kneel,
not to expect, to plant my fires underground
where none but the dolls, perfect and awful,
could be whispered to or laid down to die.

Now that I have written many words,
and let out so many loves, for so many,
and been altogether what I always was—
a woman of excess, of zeal and greed,
I find the effort useless.
Do I not look in the mirror,
these days,
and see a drunken rat avert her eyes?
Do I not feel the hunger so acutely
that I would rather die than look
into its face?
I kneel once more,
in case mercy should come
in the nick of time.

words by Anne Sexton

Throwback Thursdays

What up, Peoples. This Bug is back with another treat for you. I could wax poetic on the evolution of Common but we'd be here all day and I have shit to do. So let's take this stroll down memory lane real quick. One of my favorite years of all time was 1992. I was young, wild and loving me some Hip-Hop. I can reach in a pluck various memories from that time with ease. Lots of trees to twist. Lots of brew being guzzled. Lots of partying. It was... what it was. And I had the perfect soundtrack to do it all to. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better- Can I Borrow A Dollar? is released. The critic in me wants to go in on what a classic album this still is but I just want you to vibe on your own. And if you had this tape, you'll feel me on this one. Fortunately, This Bug never needed to borrow a dollar. I was straight with only $5 lunch money for a Dutch, an Arizona Iced Tea and a tre bag for self. Yeah, those were the days. Ahh... Soul By the Pound. First of all, any song that samples the voices of Grand Puba, Q-Tip and Redman with such finesse deserves a standing ovation. And the beat... What?! Few and far between are basslines that knock like this one. This joint proved that Common was a Chicago-getter from the gate. There are so many witty lyrics in this that I can't even nail down one for a favorite. He spoke the truth, though. I didn't bother to see CB4 back then either. "Do you even know where I'm goin'? " It doesn't even matter cuz now I gotta go-go...






Author's Note: Today's Throwback is dedicated to my homie for life. He was there for that raw Hip-Hop shit. Slick Nick- you are the truth. We lived it, my dude.

This is Bug's Raging Bile Duct

I'm sick of cars that don't do what they're supposed to. I'm sick of people talking when they should just shut the fuck up and listen. I'm tired of parting with hard earned money when unavoidable misfortunes arise. While we're at it, I'm tired of seemingly well meaning old ladies who I can't trust as far as I can spit. Just because I'm new on the job doesn't make me wet behind the ears with corporate politricks. I'm sick of phony bitches telling me I look cute but could cut me with the side eye they give as the compliment is delivered. I hate Moby even though he hasn't made a song to annoy me in over two years. I'm sick of not having enough time, money and energy to not do what I want. And if one more asshole insists that I take his number anyway even after I tell him I'm not interested- I just might get myself arrested. Well, I'm too busy biting the heads off baby bunny rabbits right now. Come back when I have something constructive to say.

Seething,
This Bug

So...What's It Like Down There?

I consider myself a fairly reasonable gal when it comes to fashion. I won't part with an obscene amount of money for the "perfect" pair of jeans. I refuse to freeze my ass off for sake of looking cute. I'm older and wiser now. But there is a part of me that simply cannot conform when it comes to shoes. In my humble opinion there is nothing flattering about flats. I hate them. To put it bluntly: I was born in heels. This Bug happens to have a mean shoe game. I'm not sure when it happened exactly but it's been the case for some time. I am deceptively short. But I walk around in 4 inch heels 70% of the time. So much so- that when I am seen in sneakers or Tims, most people who think they really know me often marvel at my actual height.


I do just about everything in heels. 3 and 1/2 inches or better. To the right is an actual photo of me changing a fuse for my niece quite comfortably in a pair of my signature stilettos.

Well lately I've been reconsidering flats for practical reasons. I stood for the better part of five hours in my trademark stilts the other day and was cursing the day I ever put them on. Why I was standing for that long is another entry. Anyway, I started kicking the idea of flats around. But there's only one problem. They suck. My friend suggested I take baby steps. A kitten heel. A kitten heel? Are you fuckin' kidding me? Unsexy.



How hideous is that shit? What is the point? I just can't do it. So I might as well step all the way down to those ballet slippery thingees. But when I looked into those I was only turned off more. There is something about heels that compliments my ankles, my calves and my runway walk that I can't resist breaking into when I'm faced with a long corridor. It's not entirely my fault, either. This Bug happens to have a considerable arch in her foot. My feet need to be on an incline. Where most people would be pained wearing heels, flat shoes tend to bother my instep after a while. And they just look plain awful. I'm sure there are some women out there that can make a flat shoe look fabulous. I'm just not one of them. When I made this point to her she then asked me a very valid question. "You want hip replacement surgery like Prince?" It gave me pause. I vaguely recall the Purple One needing an operation some time back- but I always charged that to the endless splits he did during his electrifying performances. The fact that he rocked heels for the past 20 plus years contributing to the problem never occurred to me. I don't want no damn hip surgery. Ever. So this weekend I'm going shopping for some more (gulp) pragmatic albeit matronly footwear. Pray for me. I may need a chaperone. You know, just to make sure I don't come back home with these...

Throwback Thursdays

Riddle me this: What happens when a genius producer ropes in an all-star line up of talented emcees and sets them loose on some ridiculous beats? Only one of the most brilliant concept album Hip-Hop has ever known. Prince Paul outdid himself back in 1999 with A Prince Among Thieves. The album tells the story of an aspiring rapper who needs to put together a demo quickly to present to Wu Tang. But there's one problem. He has no dough. His man hears his plight and offers to help by putting him on to the crack game. Just some quick cash to make his ultimate dream happen. And the adventure takes off. The entire album carries you through his start-up and the characters he meets along the way. There's a sociopath gun dealer (Kool Keith), a velvet tongued pimp (Big Daddy Kane) bug-eyed Crackheads (De La Soul) a dirty racist cop (Everlast) and some inmates you don't want to fuck with, just to name a few. It always irked me that this video wasn't released as an entire short film on DVD to promote this exceptional album. Prince Paul is criminally slept on. I can't say much more. Every last one of them flows instinctively over beats that seemed tailor made for the individual spittin'. To This Bug, they're all thieves. They take the cake and come back for the plate. Pshhht....The nerve of these dudes. It was straight fire and ten years later it hasn't lost any of its heat. Believe dat.

A Prince Among Thieves (Long Unedited Version)

Old Bones

When I first saw the bones in all of their magnificence, I had no idea I'd be burying skeletons of my own from that day. Tall as the ceiling and so arcane. I took it all in like a wide-eyed child. Those bones. I wondered how many had worlds existed since heavy flesh wrapped around them eons before. For me there was only one. A world that disregarded all space and time. Even blinking took on a new meaning. When I look back on that day one thing becomes clear. Flesh fails. It fails those who touch it...and it fails itself. I would never make it to White Sharks and Pina Coladas. The dinosaurs in their extinct but infinite wisdom knew it before I did. All of the secrets creaked in those old bones and said nothing.

Z-land Makes Me Feel So Alive!

This Bug has yet another movie recommendation for you, Folks. It really won't surprise if this is the top box office movie in the country this weekend even though the stats are not yet out at the time of this post. Every now and then you need a flick like Zombieland to reach in, shake the shit out of you, make you laugh and smack you cheerfully on the ass as you leave. And this film does it all.

The story surrounds a twenty-something milquetoast who is afraid of virtually everything but by some fluke can hold his own against the bloodthirsty undead. When he meets up with a loner who has perfected his talent for zombie slaying, they begrudgingly pair up and hit the road in search of safer ground. This is no easy task. There are rules to surviving Zombieland. And by the time the movie is finished, I can almost guarantee you'll know the three most important ones by heart.



Woody Harrelson shines as the expert zombie killer who happens to look damn cool while handling his biz. Jesse Eisenberg is his cowardly sidekick who curiously resembles John Cera's character from Superbad. Soft-spoken and hilariously timid to a fault. Which is ironic because Emma Stone stars as the tough girl object of his affection. You may remember her as Jules who got the eye jammy from a drunk Seth crashing into her in Superbad. Abigail Breslin rounds out the cast as her younger sister. She's grown quite a bit since Little Miss Sunshine (and way cuter than that odd looking Dakota Fanning) The cast isn't very big unless you count the thousands of ballistic zombies scrounging for the next mouthful of fresh meat.

This movie is a rollicking good time. If you can stomach blood and guts and can giggle at someone being bashed one good time, you'll enjoy this one. I haven't delighted in a film like this since Shaun of the Dead. Memorable one-liners and excitement for days. You may even have a hankering for a Twinkie when all is said and done. So... go see it. The intro alone makes it all worthwhile. I'm dead serious.