Friday, September 30, 2005
It's been quite a week, without a Bitch here in St. Louis, but a Bitch is due back any day now...
In honor of a Bitch and Banned Books Week (which ends tomorrow) I'd like to share this info from the fine folks over at the American Library Association. Here's a very small list sampled from some of the most challenged and banned books from 1990-2000.
I'm sure many of y'all have seen this already, but perhaps a few haven't. I just hate to assume we're all on "the same page." Sorry...that was really bad -- I just couldn't help myself.
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
Forever by Judy Blume
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
Sex by Madonna
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
The Witches by Roald Dahl
The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
Blubber by Judy Blume
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Pigman by Paul Zindel
Deenie by Judy Blume
Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
It's very odd and disturbing to see so many books that I know, love and cherish.
And are you really surprised that women and minorities seem to be very well represented -- especially when it comes to someone else telling them to be quiet?
Surprisingly Ann "let's return to McCarthyism" Coulter is no where to be found, but then again, I suspect our friend Ann never quite got the point of Judy Blume's Forever. The Arctic blasts of bullshit that woman utters can best be explained that Ann never read What's Happening to my Body? Book for Girls.
I, for one, was all up in Judy Blume's world when I was a child and teen. Now, I never read What's Happening to my Body? Book for Girls but I was really into What's Happening, the TV show. My love for tell-it-like-it-is black women started young. It's available on DVD, just in case you've forgotten the eloquence of Dee "I don't eat jackass meat" Nelson.
For the life of me, I also cannot understand why anyone would object to Maya Angelou's autobiography. The answer seems obvious -- flatout racist assholism -- but if anyone else knows of any legitimate answer, please fill me in.
Now, I can appreciate why some folks did not enjoy Madonna's Sex book. That bitch acted like she invented the deed itself....but to ban it? C'mon, now....
All we have to do is look at the work of a certain Dr. Kinsey (another banned book favorite) to know that folks will screw around - whether or not they read, see or watch the act. They might not choose to go about it all the ways the Madonna did in her book -- but they'll try to, nonetheless.
It goes with the territory, I suppose. Some folks wanna tell it like it is and some folks just wanna tell it like they want it to be told.
Whether or not those two things are one in the same or mutually exclusive is something to consider...but for another day.
It's the weekend -- and all this talk of sex leaves me wanting to get my Kinsey on! And that, kiddos, is a subject that is better appreciated in person and not with a computer screen or a book, for that matter!
Thanks for reading and being so kind in a Bitch's absence. She'll be back Monday and I'll be just as happy about that as you are!
-- Rob Thurman
Thursday, September 29, 2005
These bitches from England mince no words, honey!
For instance, in their latest broadcast, they share this little tidbit:
Whitney Houston was brought to the South of France a fortnight ago to perform at a big party for a Russian billionaire, along with Christina Aguilera and Enrique Iglesias.Sad truths like this:
Two hours before the concert was due to start, Whitney's people called the party organisers. There was a problem. Whitney wouldn't be able to sing... because all her teeth had just fallen out.
Cue frantic dash to find a discreet private dentist to make up a serviceable set of false teeth so the gig could go ahead.
A US judge is going on trial for indecent exposure for allegedly masturbating with a penis pump during a murder case in Creek County, Oklahoma.And tales that make Joan Crawford seem like June Cleaver:
Courtney Love's father gave her LSD from the age of four. He would also take some himself, then paint on her naked body and watch her run around in an entertainingly confused state.You can always count on a Bitch - near, far - wherever they are....to tell you a tale. My favorite this week is this little joke, which (sadly)...is could be truer than any of the salacious tales mentioned above.
Donald Rumsfeld is briefing the President, "Yesterday, three Brazilian soldiers were killed.
"OH NO!" cries the President, "...but how many is a brazillion?"
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
It seems that this bitch took the right week off! Brother Rob has been doing a fantabulous job updating a bitch's blog and this bitch is grateful! But my ass is even more grateful that Brother Rob is cleaning house and my ass didn't have to weasel out of window washing duties.
Be strong, Rob Thurman...and remember - no streaks!
Anyhoo, a bitch was going to post about a certain House Majority Leader and his fall from grace. This bitch lived in
However, a bitch simply must post about the ladies of Go Fug Yourself today.
Jessica Morgan and Heather Cocks co-author Go Fug Yourself...a blog that dishes and destroys celebrities for being fashion victims. This bitch is not a Go Fug Yourself reader, but my ass can appreciate a good read. So, a bitch was interested to read the story on these two bloggers in today’s Wall Street Journal (print edition - you have to register online so this bitch isn't going to link). The story made the front page, which isn't anything to sneeze at.
However, a bitch was unable to focus on the meat and potatoes of the article due to the picture of Miz Morgan and Miz Cocks that accompanied it.
It seems that the bloggers at Go Fug Yourself decided to dress down for their photo. Miz Morgan chose to wear a fashion top. Miz Cocks choose a teal t-shirt and jeans.
Now, a bitch is no fashionista. Basically my wardrobe consists of various tops and pants that can be combined with no mental effort. My ass does like shoes, but anything that smashed my toes doesn't make it into my closet.
A bitch is concerned. Go Fug Yourself has made its reputation by pointing out the atrocious fashion "don'ts" many celebrities fall victim to. Wouldn't you think that they would go all out for their big Wall Street Journal debut?
Okay, if we go ahead and give them the fact that they don't need to be fashion divas to dish on fashion violations (see Joan Rivers and her clone...err, child Melissa), there is still the problem of selective dishing.
A bitch was shocked to learn that their day jobs are working for Growing Up Gotti and
A bitch is not trying to be mean-spirited...this bitch wishes these fellow bloggers well! But if my ass were exposed as a happy white man my readers would have every right to be pissed. In that spirit, this bitch hopes that the ladies of Go Fug Yourself go check themselves...in a mirror...and apply some of that fashion advice to their own fucking selves. Because you can bet your ass Nicole Kidman wouldn't have been caught dead posing in a fashion top on the cover of The Wall Street Journal!
Back to the vacation!
A Bitch wrote last night from Vegas and while she may not consider herself lucky at cards -- I suggest a Bitch go roll some dice. Her lucky and fortunate ass is missing one hell of a day of house cleaning. Actually, I know exactly what a Bitch would say (and do) if I asked her to clean our floor to ceiling windows.
Anyway...before I get all crazy with the Windex, let me share with y'all an interesting development in the gay political leadership here in the city of St. Louis.
The Red Scare
It seems that some folks here in St. Louis have organized to celebrate National Coming Out Day. That's the day in which homos (like myself) are supposed to say, "Hey, world! I'm gay!"
To which the world usually says, "We know, queen....thank God you finally figured it out! Now get over here and finish fixing my car, styling my hair, giving me that blow job, etc. etc. etc."
A Bitch and I often regale each other with our own coming out stories. I was 18 and drunk (for the very first time). All it took was a bottle of Popov, a tape recorder and The Lion and the Cobra. I was in my dorm room, sitting around with some friends taping a goofy-ass conversation about changing the world while Sinead O'Connor played in the background.
It took...oh...all of three drinks and suddenly I was gushing about this super-dreamy boy with the bluest-of-blue eyes in one of my design classes when another friend walked in to join in the festivities.
"I'm gay!" I screamed at my friend.
"Um...Rob....I knew that the moment I met you," my friend replied, "I'm from San Francisco, remember?"
So much for melodramatical revelations -- but it felt like a small victory. Granted, my revelation occurred at the same moment I became a binge-drinking alcoholic, but that just adds to the whole sad charm of the moment, doesn't it?
One would think, 16 years later, that National Coming Out Day would be an easier process. But local gay leadership, including the Stonewall Democrats and the Log Cabin Republicans are not participating in this year's event.
The reason? Well...according to the Stonewall Democrats:
"We are a political party and we have to think, ‘does this advance Democratic causes?’”
The Log Cabin Republicans chimed-in with:
“There is no way LCR will be part of an event co-sponsored by the Communist party.”
YES! You read that right (and correctly).
It seems that the local chapter of the Communist Party is sponsoring National Coming Out Day -- and the city's political gay leadership is acting in typical gay-bullshit political fashion.
Gay Democrats are employing the tried-and-true evasive ass "assessment" technique while Gay Republicans seem to be reacting the way Gay Democrats used to act -- think self-hating, Communist-baiting, innocent-people killing assholes like Roy Cohn.
It seems in times like these -- that the Gay political movement has somehow gone from Stonewall to Eight-Ball. I don't know what these queens are smoking -- but National Coming Out Day should be one thing that we all can enjoy -- even if you're a bullet-dodging Democrat, a Roy Cohn Wanna-Be or a Pinko-Commie-Liberal. I don't know what this world is coming to when queer folks run screaming from some well-intentioned Communists. If history serves a purpose, let's not forget that gay folks and Communists were herded up into concentration camps along with a whole variety of folks who were considered "outsiders". It's chicken-shit bullshit politics as far as I'm concerened.
This void in leadership, in light of what awaits me today, points to the fact that every so often -- sometimes you just gotta clean house.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
A bitch has begun to relax. Don't worry, my ass is still bitchy. This bitch has spent the day munching on various foodlikethings and catching up on daytime CNN...
Yeah, vacations are great. Tonight a bitch and my sister are taking in a show then hitting the vodka crans. No, this bitch will not be hitting the card tables. My ass may gamble, but slots and cards are not my game.
Anyhoo, a bitch is concerned about Wolf Blitzer. Since a bitch has a 9a-5p job, my ass has never seen Wolfie's (we are so close it pisses others off) new show. The Situation Room is...well...bizarre.
Why would the producers of CNN put poor Wolfie in that kind of circus environment? Jesus to Gawd, the man is too small to stand in front of three huge flat-screen monstrosities and deliver the news. Those giant screens aren't even showing video related to what he's talking about. It's like a televised breakdown!
A bitch was so shocked by Wolfie's new set that it took three seconds for me to zero in on what the fuck he was talking about. The video was of some National Guard activity, but Wolfie was chatting on and on about Mike Brown...you know, that FEMA fuck-tool...and his soon to take place testimony before congress.
But wait! Could it be...? Could it be BREAKING NEWS???
Drama! Cue to graphics! Now cue the creepy CNN Breaking News music! Yes!!
Dazed and miserable, Wolfie introduced CNN's live footage of Michael Brown testifying before congress.
How much money did it take to buy Michael Brown's soul...?
This motherfucker is a trip! What the fuck? First, he didn't look nearly shitty enough...his ass was clearly well fed and bathed and a bitch just wanted to reach through the fantabulous flat screen television in our hotel room (got an upgrade...cool, huh) and smack the living shit out of him.
Fucker. YOU CORRUPT ASSED MOTHERFUCKER!
This shit redefined the blame game.
Not only does Michael Brown not take any responsibility for his complete inability to do his job...not only does Michael Brown not see the glaring incompetence of his never having alerted congress to the inadequate funding FEMA received that resulted in their never having addressed problems revealed by past hurricanes....no, this complete shit covered asshole sees no problem with the fact that he's still on the government payroll...as a fucking consultant!
Lawd help me!
It gets better...
Michael Brown to congress..."Put yourself in my place. I was just a coordinator. I'm a patsy! I was sent back to D.C. because I failed to see how disorganized
This bitch was just about to pass out from that shit when something dawned on me...if Michael Brown is on the tax-payer doll, and a bitch is a tax payer, doesn't that mean that a bitch is the one paying his ass to "consult"?
Fine. Consult on this, asshole! A bitch would like Michael Brown to consult the federal government on how to avoid hiring complete cronies like himself! This bitch is requesting a detailed report on how Michael was hired with no experience, how much money he had to raise for W'04 to qualify for this kind of payoff and how he oppressed actual workers in order to keep his cushy cronie appointment!
Then, this fucking tax payer would like to have one hour with Michael Brown...alone.
That's not a threat...just a request from his employer...this tax paying AngryBlackBitch.
Give a bitch an hour and you can bet your motherfucking life Michael Brown would walk away with a strong understanding of what human suffering by the hands of an unfeeling relentless bitch is all about!
Or you could just take his corrupt ass off the federal payroll.
A bitch may be on vacation but my eye is still on The
See you in San Fran...
Ready to go with my Diet Coke and a fresh pack of cigarettes, I sat there, stupefied for all of 17 minutes before I simply had to turn off the mother fucking television. President Scooter was on talking about conservation of energy, Hurricane Katrina in the only way he knows how – which is...well…badly.
Scooter’s very concerned about this oil crisis gripping the country – but he has a solution!
"We can all pitch in...” he said in that faux Hee-Haw accent, especially noting that it would be helpful to avoid “…a trip that's not essential."
Is that kind of like your month-long vacation in Crawford, Scoots?
I wish the President would just say what he means. We all know that sometimes what he says is often garbled and clumsy. Ya know, that degree from Yale can leave a person a little lacking in communicatory abilities.
I think Scooter misspoke (as usual) and here’s my take on what Scoots really meant to say:
My fellow Americans,
Great challenges and great burdens face this country.
Many of you know of what I speak.
You live in the suburbs. You’re business leaders. You drive fuel-appreciating, economic-stimulating Sports Utility Vehicles. And many of you own beach front mansions that were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina.
You face a difficult and arduous task in keeping yourself in the lifestyle to which you are accustomed. The burden of your birth cannot and will not be questioned in the light of such overwhelming devastation!
As you know, I am in favor of our Ownership Society. After all, we actually own most of it, don’t we? ***laugh*** And difficult, challenging days like today present moments where our God-given birthright of ownership is being frequently questioned.
Let me address your fears today, as we begin the process of rebuilding a damaged empire….I mean…great nation.
First, let me address the increased price of fuel that will no doubt impact your very lovely and stylish pocketbook that your wife, your mistress or your closeted gay lover picked out for you at Neiman Marcus.
I know that you know that I know how important it is for you to have a fuel-appreciating automobile like an SUV. As business leaders – you need to have a vehicle that represents you and your successful, affluent lifestyle.
After all, a vehicle that suggests economy and efficiency really doesn’t present the best image of you as a corporate leader now, does it?
And I know your wife, mistress and closeted gay lover needs an SUV as well. All those trips to the salon, the country club, the gym, ballet practice and so on necessitates a comfortable vehicle.
I am also concerned for your teenage children. Private school is not a kind and welcoming place for children in unattractive, outdated vehicles now, is it?
With this in mind, I am proposing an immediate suspension of any and all income tax for those of you who drive SUVs and for those of you who also own homes of 20,000+ square feet. You, more than anyone in America, will not be burdened by the hike in gasoline prices and the expected rise in heating oil. You are the owners of our society, after all.
Haven’t you already paid enough?
As a man who appreciates a good vacation – I understand that increases in fuel prices will dramatically affect your much-needed ski trip to Aspen. I understand why you should not feel encumbered when you want to jet off to some sunny locale before the chill of winter descends upon your estates. We’ll be looking into ways for you to be able to take the trip you need to take – and it won’t be by bus, either!
I know, as well as you, that maintaining and keeping multiple mansions as well as that attractive condo for your piece-on-the-side is an expensive proposition. Heating all of those homes will drastically affect your ability to entertain. We cannot have the cotillions, society functions and prestigious parties that are the backbone of American life affected by something like a storm!
I, myself, know the style of living to which you are accustomed and to which you are owed as business leaders. I know…and I’m here for you!
You see…I have not forgotten those of you who can not help the way you were born.
I know that even though you were born into positions of wealth, power and privilege – you need not be afraid that some rain and wind should impact your ability to lead the lives which God wanted you to lead.
My plan is simple:
People who drive smaller cars that use less fuel should pay more for it than those who are burdened by fuel-appreciating, business promoting, pro-growth, pro-progress vehicles like SUVs.
Those people live within the city limits and they don’t need to drive. They can take a bus, can’t they?
Let’s face facts, the Owners of our society frequently live on estates and properties that are inconveniently located very far away from our business centers.
Should you really be the one burdened by gasoline prices, when these selfish city-dwellers insist on driving when they could just walk?
The same goes for heating oil. Those people in smaller homes can bear the brunt of rising oil prices much easier than we can. After all, they live in 300 square feet apartments, so can it really be that expensive to heat, even if prices go up 75%?
I think they can bear the burden much easier than we can.
Multiple homes versus a one-room, seven-story walkup… I think we all know the answer who should have to “pay more” this winter. That’s right – them!
I also would like to alleviate any further questions about how we will rebuild this great country. The devastation left by Hurricane Katrina affords me and my administration the ability to award you – our concerned business leaders -- lucrative building contracts that will certainly offset any potential loss you may have this year from price hikes in gasoline, oil, or to pay off that blackmailing slut that you have on the side.
As I told you, I favor the Ownership Society...and I’m here for you.
Thank you and God Bless America!
Monday, September 26, 2005
Within moments, an Angry Black Bitch is leaving on a jet plane, and I’m left with some pretty big shoes to fill here in her absence. Now, I’m not saying she has big feet, because I was taught that it is not proper to discuss the size of a woman’s foot in public.
You see, where I’m from that’s called home-training.
It’s also called having a lick of sense in your head, because I know that talking about an Angry Black Bitch’s shoe size would likely result in having said shoe whopped upside my head once she returns from her vacation. Let’s just say, for a little extra dose of CYH (cover your head), that her feet are dainty and small, her shoes are always stunning and that her toes are always perfectly painted.
For those of you who may be wondering who the hell I am in the first place, let me introduce myself. My name is Rob Thurman and I am lucky enough to call a Bitch my friend, my colleague and my collaborator in the United Church of Bitchitude and Latter-Day Drunks. She sits right next to me and Monday through Friday, and I live a couple of blocks from a Bitch and a Bitch’s sister, which comes in handy when I drive their drunk asses home like I did last week….um….twice.
Most mornings, I will stroll up into our office on my bicycle (late) –and after a cup of coffee and 4 cigarettes, I am ready to engage a Bitch with an assessment of Katie Couric’s colonic health or some mind-numbing misdeed that recently has come to our attention.
I also turn to a Bitch for advice, as do many of you. We all know that sometimes it is beneficial to turn to others for guidance and, sometimes, correction. I thought that I’d share a story with y’all today that touches on being angry, appreciating Blackness and well-intentioned bitches. I’ll also speak of guidance and my own mother, whose own bitchiness is not in question. Once, after a heated argument, I called my older brother a son-of-a-bitch and my mother took off her shoe and whooped my ass with it.
That’s home-training for ya…and it’s what can bring an Angry Black Bitch and someone White Like Me together in the first place.
Now, I may look white, but I’ve always felt like a phony, like I’m in disguise. See, I grew up (legally) poor, fat and gay on a farm in rural Kentucky, ten miles from the closest town. I wasn’t actually aware I was poor until some White Lady Guidance Counselor pointed to my parent’s income on line 14c of a college application and said something about desirable demographical diversity and got all giddy and excited.
It’s kind of a bitch, being 16 years old, and suddenly being told you’re demographically diverse, when all you thought you were was kinda bookish and well-intentioned.
I was, however, made aware (almost daily) of being fat and gay. There’s just something about being rather rotund and wanting to play Wonder Woman in kindergarten that sticks with you throughout your life in a small farming community.
As I grow older and the festering wounds of childhood become self-deprecating blogging fodder, I still find myself very annoyed with a world that, on the surface, I’m supposed to be able to access with grace and ease as a reasonably attractive Caucasian male. You see, I might pass for white, but it’s not an identity I want to claim.
The way I see it: white people are trifling and white people bullshit is fucking everything up in this country.
On any given day, I will bitch to a Bitch about “reeducation” efforts in Kentucky that are teaching children that their Southern accents are bad and wrong. We’ll go out to lunch at a soul food restaurant and I will holler to the high heavens that the small restaurants back home that once offered decent Southern cooking have been bulldozed and replaced by McDonalds. I look around the nation and see bullshit going on in Arizona, Kansas and Pennsylvania, where some holy rollers are forcing intelligent design into the classroom. Across the ocean, the native folks in Hawaii are fighting to keep their schools and brown folks are getting herded up and/or shot in [insert any number of locations here].
And to make matters worse, up in my bedroom, gay white boys look at me like I’m crazy when I say the best concert I’ve seen this year featured Jill Scott, Queen Latifah and Erykah Badu. These dizzy queens have never tasted the sugar water and cannot imagine why one would want to in the first place.
And the weight of all this white people bullshit leaves me feeling like such an imposter -- and some days, it’s more than I can bear.
Being a solution-minded person, I decided to dig deep into my ancestry, with the hopes of finding something, some glimmer of a heritage that I could be proud of.
So, I called my mother…
Rob: Hi, Mom!
M: Hi, Robbie! How are you?
R: Fine. But I don’t think I’m white. Well…. I don’t wanna be white anymore.
M: What are you talking about, now?
R: Was Mamaw an Indian?
****For the sake of clarification, my mother’s mother was called Mamaw and my father’s mother was called Granny****
M: No. I told you before – many times -- that her grandmother or her great grandmother was. That’s where your high cheekbones and the black hair come from. Her people were called West. That’s all I know.
****I’d like to interrupt again. It occurred to me my grandmother’s people could, perhaps, be related to Dr. Cornel West. After all, Dr. West is a noted Black educator, philosopher and speaker. It also occurred to me, as a dyed-in-the-wool homosexual, it could be a metaphorical reference to the Wicked Witch of the West. Brown or green – at least it wasn’t white.****
R: Well, I’m not sure that’s good enough.
M: Good enough for what?
R: To turn our farm into a casino or legitimize a drug-induced spirit quest.
M: Are you on drugs?
R: No. I’m just mad at white eyes.
M: Are you drinking again?
R: NO! But I think my problem with booze is because I’m part Native American
M: I think your problem with booze is that you can’t keep your mouth shut.
****corrective, accurate verbal bitch slap****
R: NO! If Native American genetics can make my hair black and produce stunning cheek bones, then couldn’t, conceivably, my battle with the booze be linked to higher alcoholism rates among many Indian tribes?
M: I…..suppose. I just never touched the stuff, given our…family issues…so I wouldn’t know. Why you drank in the first place has always disappointed me.
****corrective, guilt-ridden verbal bitch slap****
R: Well….um…..I bet I’m part Black since I get along so well with the soul sisters.
M: You didn’t learn that ‘til you went out there to college.
****This will be addressed later****
R: Well…there are all those Black people named Thurman in town.
M: I know I have told you, repeatedly, that those folks are the descendents of the slaves of those other Thurman’s – the ones that lived in that big house down the road. Your Grandpa’s people did not have slaves.
R: Well…maybe Grandpa’s people were….umm…..the forbidden love children of slaves and slave owners. It happened, Mom! We watched Roots, remember?!?
M: You are drinking again!
R: No. I’m just mad.
M: About what?
R: White eyes.
M: When you get some sense, call me back.
R: Fine. Bye.
So….there you have it.
I’m still angry, only Black by association and my Native American bitchiness could only be either 6.25% or 3.125% proof. That’s not enough to legally change my driver’s license, birth certificate or any other official document, but it is enough to get me through today – and it reminds me I need to join NORML.
It also reminds me that I need to call my mother when I get home tonight.
In the absence of a Bitch, a mother’s verbal bitch slap may be necessary, just to keep things right in a world that so often seems so wrong. And my neck will no doubt be jerking during part of the conversation. I do, indeed, know what I’ve learned by keeping company with some Angry Black Bitches.
And in dereference to my mother and some home-training, that’s a conversation I will keep to myself. She’ll whoop my ass for sure when she ever finds out I put our family’s issues up here in the first place.
Have a good day and watch out for irate women brandishing shoes!
--Rob Thurman (pictured above -- braced for impact.....)
Sunday, September 25, 2005
A certain AbsolutBilly made a bitch a rather strong vodka cran…which this bitch consumed at the intermission…on an empty stomach. Nuff said.
Note to self – live blogging requires slight sobriety.
Anyhoo, a bitch was able to make one post before the spins set in! Fuck it…my ass had fun and a bitch’s vacation was kicked off in style. Brother Rob Thurman will be guest blogging for a bitch all week…as my ass has said before, he’s not black but he is bitchy.
Go on with your bad self, Rob Thurman! Practice that bitchitude, honey child!
Thank you to everyone who called my ass out for not having blog rolled my own motherfucking Café Press store. Yes, my ass is weird like that. Yes, a bitch has taken care of that shit. Now shut up!
2 cups coffee with Splenda and 1% organic milk, followed by 2 Excedrin, 1 Claritin, 2 real motherfucking Sudafed (Yes!) and a yummy breakfast from McDonalds to settle my fucked up stomach…
Meet the Press…
A bitch was up early, which is typical for me after a night of debauchery. My ass was surprised to see the President of Jefferson Parish on Meet the Press again. He was the dude who went off a few Sunday’s ago and then broke down and cried. Specifically, he related a tale about how a member of his staff lost his mother due to the government’s lack of response to Katrina.
It was moving, chil’ren. His anger was…well…it was impressive and that’s saying a lot coming from my angry black ass.
Russert attempted to call Mr. Jefferson Parish out on a couple of factual inconsistencies in the story. Was it Friday or Saturday when the elderly woman died? How many phone calls did the staff member make?
This bitch was just about to get uneasy…a bitch has grown fond of the President of Jefferson Parish and feels that he’s a definite bitch…when Mr. Jefferson Parish struck back!
“Are you going to sit there in
A bitch hit pause, smiled, sipped my coffee and settled down.
“I’m not going to have someone who is in a building with working toilets and electricity try to debate me on what happened here! Listen, I’m more than happy to have this discussion. Call me in a year. Right now, I’ve only had three hours sleep and this is not going to happen. I’ve got a job to do, Tim.”
Okay, a bitch has embellished a bit but the gist was the same.
This bitch has had enough of the disdain and disregard being demonstrated by the right. Who are these bloggers trying to poke holes in every story that comes out about a person getting fucked over by Scooter’s handling of Katrina? Mmmmhmmm…that’s right chil’ren. Online minions with blogs...yep, those fuckers!
People, a lot of fucking people, died. People, a lot of fucking people, have lost everything they have.
Personally, my ass enjoys watching these assholes demonstrate their assholia. A bitch is thrilled that the party of family values and moral whateverthefuck is running around debating the who, what, when and where of a man’s grief at the loss of his mother. As if Scooter will suddenly be washed clean of the smear of ineptitude because some asshole with a blog is able to prove that only five phone calls where made to the nursing home instead of ten. How many desperate phone calls does it take for desperation to register with these sick fucks? How many days of decomposition and neglect count…does a body have to be left for three days or four…does it have to be found floating or on a fucking overpass?
Jesus to Gawd, this “angle” stinks on ice!
And it does nothing to absolve Scooter or his minions. Nothing, even the distance of time, will do that…
To the online minions with blogs on the right…this isn’t a sloppy blow job kinda problem. This is a massive loss of life while the whole world was watching kinda problem.
Then log the fuck off…
Saturday, September 24, 2005
This Blood Ray rendition of Wicked has just concluded and this bitch can only say WOW!
What a wonderful way to say happy fucking birthday to a fellow bitch in bitchitude, Blood Ray!
What can I say?
Blood Ray was green...and fucking fantabulous!
A bitch's sister nailed her lines like a motherfucker...
Rob Thurman delivered like a well trained ho on the stroll making money for his pimp...
Joe, Mark, Justin, Jennifer, Clip Girl and everyone else was on like a motherfucker...
Did my ass mention that this bitch is drunk?
Happy fucking birthday Blood Ray...
A bitch loves you like cold fried chicken at 3am in the morning...
p.s. much love to Christine and Judith for being the shit...
A bitch wants to live with you and be your...fuck it...your anything....
Friday, September 23, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Last night my ass watched CNN and Paula Zahn (not close, because she is an undercover neo-con at CNN and they should just give Anderson Cooper that extra fucking hour and tell her pruned up wanna-be Diane Sawyer ass to step). Paula was imploding because there was a possible tornado in Minneapolis, a Jet Blue plane about the make an emergency landing at LAX and Hurricane Rita about to whoop ass in the Gulf. Oh my! Jesus, it must be the end of days!
Paula lost her chili for an hour then handed all that drama off to Larry King, who spent his hour being an old man. A bitch loves him, but he can be...well...elderly at times...
“What’s going on? Has the plane landed? Is it landing? Hello?”
It was cute and strangely soothing. Anyway, the plane landed, the tornado did what tornados do and Hurricane Rita is doing what hurricanes do.
Ahh, the joy of breaking news on CNN…24 hours of freaking the fuck out on live television! A bitch went to bed knowing that the nation’s shitstorms were being covered by the diligent anchors of CNN…which is, in case you’ve missed their new marketing blitz, essential.
2 cups coffee with Splenda and 1% organic milk, 1 Claritin, 2 pseudo-Sudafed and cigs…
A bitch is still tired of people's shit…
My ass published the first tired of your shit rant early in this blog’s life. Aint a damned thing changed but the date.
To the evil heifers who don’t want this bitch to move on…
Motherfuckers, a bitch has kicked your tired ass cat-fight loving, micro managing, dictatorial, playa-hating, prissy suit wearing, afraid of a bitch’s afro, embarrassment to women’s organizations asses to the curb. Stay where a bitch kicked you to! Cease sending this bitch e-mails spouting off about how much you will miss me and how sorry you are to see my leadership skills having ass go.
I do not give a fuck! Once more time with feeling…I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK!
Y’all should have thought about my leadership skills when you were pissing me off.
Did you think a bitch was playing? Well, that’s just another example of your inability to grasp reality.
Instead of e-mailing and calling this bitch you might want to do some inner work…examine the asshole within and, as Michael Jackson said, make that change. Good luck with that.
To the Democrats who plan to vote for Roberts…
My Grandfather, who was in the Navy during WWII, told this bitch that his fellow navy sailors often encouraged each other to remember Pearl Harbor. For example, when considering whether to dock all of the nation’s ships in one port you may want to remember Pearl Harbor and proceed not to do that dumb assed shit…again.
A bitch would like to encourage the current Democrats in office to remember Operation Iraqi Freedom. Or should that be remembering the fuckers who voted to give Scooter the power to take our asses to war…against terror? No, no, no…it would be remember John Kerry! Yes!
A bitch would like Democrats to remember John Kerry and the 2004 year long Republican feeding frenzy on the carcass of the votes of John Kerry's past. Specifically, John’s Iraq War/War on Terror/I thought it was symbolic/My ass believed in the flawed intelligence votes.
If Republicans have enough votes to confirm Roberts as Chief Justice then let them. If you personally think Roberts is the right man for the job, then go with Gawd and vote to confirm him.
But if your ass is just doing this to build the bridge of bipartisanism…check yourself before you wreck yourself!
The same tired assed, red eyed, baby eating, puppy kicking, devil worshiping Republican who kicked John Kerry in the face in 2004 will be shooting for your toes in 2006 chanting shit like Flip Flop and Indecisive. Learn from that shit, for the love of all that is holy!
To the media regarding Hurricane Rita and FEMA…
Since you have all been asking the question for the last 24 hours and it looks like the nation is going to have to suffer you asking it for another 72 hours, this bitch would like to answer it for your asses.
No, FEMA is not prepared to handle a category 5 hurricane post Katrina debacle. No organization can go from rancid to sirloin in a week. That, my friends, is a stupid fucking question!
Why not ask if FEMA is prepared to outsource the shit they cannot do right? Why not ask what ordinary citizens can proactively prepare to do because FEMA will not take care of it? How about a quizzical on the multitude of things FEMA will likely fail to do…a list, with bullet points, of things state and local governments might as well take on rather than waiting for FEMA to go fetal and start sucking its thumb?
Hmmm…why not go there? It’s not as if you haven’t been feeding off of the ass of FEMA for two weeks. You know what they are capable of and are not capable of.
Keep it real, fuckers…
…because you can bet your ass Hurricane Rita will.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
A bitch has a new logo, which was created by his Pontifical Greatness Brother Rob Thurman. Although my ass is fond of the South Park image, this bitch must admit that the monster ‘fro is cool! Thanks to NuggetMaven for creating ABB/SouthPark…she’ll still be around and y’all might see her again…
A bitch has a Café Press store. Check it out! This bitch would like to thank the masterful Rob Thurman for our logo implementation and for all the fantabulous graphic design stuff! And a bitch has kisses and hugs for my sister C-Money who is now my official marketing pimp…
We even created an apron for a certain Live Journal diva as requested….
2 cups coffee with the usual Splenda and 1% organic milk, followed by pseudo Sudafed, 1 Claritin and cigs…
A bitch checked out the Today Show this morning. Katie Couric is still looking freakishly orange, but a bitch has decided that she must like that look. Weird, but some people are driven to be different.
Another week, another hurricane…
With Hurricane Rita bearing down on Texas and the Gulf it seems that the National Hurricane Center only has four more names left on its list. And the hurricane season isn’t over until November 30! Drama!
Whatever could be responsible for the large number of hurricanes?
Katie, nasal and bright orange…"Are humans partially to blame?”
Segue into segment about the debate over Global Warming…
Global Warming position statement…Global warming has resulted in warmer oceans waters, which are the fuel fro hurricanes. The ocean water is more warm and warmer longer, so we will see an increase in the number of hurricanes and their intensity. The logical thing to do would be to address Global Warming to counter this emerging phenomenon.
Bush Administration statement…Global warming is bullshit. History shows that there are cyclical increases in ocean water temperatures and our love of pollution has nothing to do with it. Expect to see ten years of hurricane drama then this shit will taper off. Strong African winds are warming the oceanic waters, not some crazy science driven global warming crap.
ABB’s position statement…Have you lost your motherfucking mind? The increase in hurricane activity is not the only evidence of global warming, assholes. The polar icecaps are melting like ice cream in Haiti! Jesus to Gawd, how long are we going to debate this shit? What will it take for the American government to validate environmental damage? Do you have to be eaten alive by a starving Polar Bear? Fuckers! Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Hurricane Rita is preparing to rub some serious salt into the wounded Gulf and these fuckers are telling us to prepare for ten years of this shit!
This bitch wonders if my ass should be preparing for the end of days. Brother Rob, it’s time to prepare the bunker!
Thank Gawd this bitch has the comfort of my church, the United Church of Bitchitude and Latter Day Drunks, and the elixir of vodka followed by cran…
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
A bitch is beside myself with joy to be listed among so many fantabulous artists!
Okay, really it was the fact that my ass is listed along with Alexander McQueen....GENIUS!
Anyhoo, thank you Brother Boadwee....
You like a bitch! You really like a bitch!!
Can't you just feel the love?
My ass loves to cook and loves to eat even more.
A bitch's family eats all manner of yumminess, but my ass is responsible for holiday cooking. Since my crazy assed mother ceased cooking after her first nervous breakdown this bitch has been filling the gullets of the Bitch Squad for years!
Basically, this bitch cooks yummy home-style things that are not too complex. My ass looks to other people's kitchens for artistic culinary creations...which are then consumed by my ass with relish!
Sooo, check out the new power blog for food...Turdmania at the Eatateria!
4 cups coffee with Splenda and 1% organic milk, 1 Claritin, 2 inadequate for this level of congestion fake assed Sudafed, cheesy eggs and toast followed by cigs…
A bitch would like to remember Simon Wiesenthal, who left this world for his sweet reward Tuesday in Vienna.
This bitch first heard of Simon Wiesenthal in Junior High. My ass studied the Holocaust, but history books often glamorize the trials of Nazi war criminals while neglecting to cover the bastards who escaped to South America post WWII. It wasn’t until High School…until a good friend told his family’s story of survival…until that horrible time in history was made real to me that my ass heard the name Simon Wiesenthal.
Since this bitch attended a predominately Jewish university (Go Judges!), my ass learned a lot about the Wiesenthal Center and the work they do. In a world full of apathy and inaction it was refreshing to know that there were people working for justice.
Simon Wiesenthal challenged the world. His life was a testament to the evil human beings are capable of and the power of one voice in a chorus of insanity. That life gave birth to a legacy that will live on and we should all be both grateful and challenged.
A bitch has not weighed in on the Roberts debate…until now. Missouri’s Boy Governor has shown his literal ass to pro-choice activists by signing a restrictive law that allows for lawsuits against agencies or individuals who advise and/or assist minors of abortion options or in seeking an abortion without their parents consent.
This law is bullshit, but beyond that it is completely unrealistic in the face of real life. This bitch volunteers with minors who have become pregnant and who, because of Matt Blunt's tyrannical anti-family reign in Jefferson City, are now homeless.
How can you sign a restrictive law that denies adults the right to discuss abortion as an option without parental consent yet support state laws that consider a woman no longer a minor once she has a child…which is why this bitch has over 25 young women to volunteer with at homeless teen shelters. See, in Missouri if you are pregnant you are a child but your ass is grown as a motherfucker once you crank that baby out.
And Lawd have mercy on us if we allow two families to live under one roof and save some motherfucking money! Jesus to Gawd! That would be encouraging people to stay on assistance.
Gawd, we can’t allow agencies or adults to discuss prevention because that would encourage sex.
Lawd save me, we can’t have chil’ren seeking abortion advice without their parents there…that would encourage independence…err…anti-family...no…uh…hmmm…that would be bad!
This motherfucker must go! Anyone who does not vote for anyone but Blunt in the next election had best forget my address, phone number, e-mail address and this blog…fuck it, forget this bitch’s name.
Having said that…this kind of ignorant anti-choice aggression throws the Roberts Chief Justice consideration into sharp relief.
Missouri choice activists are already challenging this bullshit in court.
When it makes it to the Supreme Court who do you want to decide whether to hear it?
And while you hesitate let me remind you that, right now, any Missouri citizen who even discusses abortion with a minor without that minor’s consent has opened themselves up to prosecution. Anyone…including this blog?
How the fuck do we know who’s reading this shit? How can a bitch keep a minor from reading this and learning this ? How would a bitch know if a minor clicked on this link and read about their options?
Howevah would a bitch know…?
Education, prevention and choice…
...by any means necessary!
Monday, September 19, 2005
Everyone is all a flutter about a certain Blood Ray’s birthday extravaganza next weekend! A bitch has witnessed the rehearsals and must confess that it will be the wickedest party of the year. Go on with your bad soon to be green self, Blood Ray! This bitch is planning to blog from party…if my ass can figure out how.
2 cups coffee with Splenda and 1% organic milk included, 1 Claritin, 2 bullshit infused federally regulated because of all the Meth heads fucking shit up for the allergy sufferers Sudafed and cigs…
This bitch was going to post about marriage and the fucked up celebrities who dive into it head first without checking the water temperature, then rush their ass to the courthouse to get a fucking annulment.
However, my ass is so bored with that shit that a bitch is beyond bitching about it. Shocking, right!?
However, a bitch is feeling bitchy today.
Debt and Scooter's New Deal...
Over the weekend Scooter’s bold remake of the New Deal ran head first into his inability to balance the national checkbook. This has happened to my ass when shoe shopping, so a bitch identified the problem quickly.
Scooter has made a lot of promises over the years. He’s gotten away with huge financial fuck-ups because 50% of America is dazzled by the language and never looks for substance.
Example…when Jennifer and Jay Anybody hear “death tax” they assume that they will be asked to pay a tax when they die. Worst yet, Grandma Anybody’s estate will be taxed to high heaven and Jenn and Jay won’t inherit a dime. The problem is that estates are taxed only at or above a certain level. No one in this bitch’s family has ever been close to qualifying for the estate tax…ooops, sorry…the death tax. But, with the use of clever wording, Scooter and his minions were able to convince Jenn and Jay to support a tax cut they don't qualify for.
Unfortunately, saying that tax cuts will stimulate the economy does not result in tax cuts stimulating the economy. Particularly when you are spending through the roof, mismanaging an unnecessary war and allowing your party to bleed the national vein like vampires at a feast.
This bitch has been concerned about the deficit for some time. My ass watched in horror as the house that Clinton built was systematically demolished. Now, in the face of mounting war costs and a huge natural disaster, a bitch wishes we didn’t have to refinance the burned out lot left over after years of Republican looting.
Every day the United States of America takes out loans. We have no money. Our credit rating is probably shit. And yesterday the usual suspects indulged in the Sunday talk show circle jerk over whether we need to raise taxes or repeal the tax cut.
Shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!
The big proposal to pay for Scooter’s New Deal is to slash the already slashed federal budget of necessary funding while protecting to massive pork funding their overpaid unethical asses just passed! All so that you can protect the rich and continue to expand the poverty percentages, which will only create more people who can’t fucking get out of Dodge when a motherfucking hurricane is bearing down on them!
Lawd have mercy!
Shit. It may be time to immigrate to Canada or Sweden....
Friday, September 16, 2005
Vodka cran (heavy on the vodka followed by grape cran over ice), notepad and a fresh pack of cigs…
A bitch switched on NBC. Tim Russert was mouthing off about the monumental task ahead of Scooter. The scene switches over to Jackson Square, which has been cleaned up for the occasion. The only sound is the hum of the generators for the lights. A lone podium has been set up in the middle of the lawn.
Out of the darkness comes Scooter…dressed casually and walking with the determination of a toddler!
Jesus, he looks like shit! The minions must have kept him awake last night so he could pull his best Bill Clinton (Bubba always gave us a good puffy eyed haggard face in the midst of trauma)!
A bitch kicked off my shoes and curled up. One sip of vodka grape cran and a puff on the cig…
Hit play and begin...
“Blah, blah, blah. Our fellow Americans are waiting for life and hope to return.”
MmmmHmmm. That’s nothing compared to the weeklong wait for law, order, sanitation, food and water to return...motherfucker. This bitch has been waiting for 5 fucking years for some fucking sanity to return! Jesus!
“Millions of lives were changed in a day by a cruel and wasteful storm.”
Glad to see that you finally noticed that shit…YOU LATE TO THE BALLGAME, STILL STRUGGLING TO CATCH UP, PATHETIC MOTHERFUCKER!
“Many of you are looking for meaning in a tragedy that seems so blind and random”
What? Asshole, people in the Gulf have feared this for decades! Catch up! When you get hit from behind by a baseball bat…that’s blind. When you see a motherfucker running towards you with a baseball bat…that’s pretty fucking vivid and clear. A bitch will give you random, but hold off on that blind shit.
“We have all witnessed the kind of desperation no citizen of this nation should ever know.”
All of us? We all witnessed it? Some of us witnessed it in real time, honey. Others had their minions burn a fucking DVD and caught that shit a few days later. FUCKER!
The rest of the information detailed in the speech will now be related in the form of a recipe…
Absolutely Useless Bullshit on Ice
5 Cups Franklin D. Roosevelt – Massive aid package, healthcare coverage, job training, federal land for homes program and a public works program.
2 Cups Truman with Reagan Preservative – Take responsibility…for the Federal involvement…which you didn’t know about…because you trusted the people around you…who made mistakes…while you were not in the room…and you can’t recall who/what/when/where…what was the question again?
1 Teaspoon Clinton – Profess a great understanding and concern for poverty. Note – in this small quantity Clinton does not have a huge impact on the overall mix.
2/3 Cup Pure Reagan – Announce incentives for entrepreneurship with the explanation that tax breaks for companies will create jobs. Note – Reagan is an artificial job stimulant and may have a bitter aftertaste commonly referred to as trickle down recession.
2 White, very white, amazingly white Eggs – Make sure that NBC flashes to two separate shelter shots to show evacuee (egg) reactions to your plan. Note – brown eggs are unpredictable and angry and may turn on your ass, which is why you want to use white eggs for public preparation.
1 Cup Vinegar – Promise a lot but present no plan to fund this shit.
10 Cups Bullshit (level off each cup) – Announce a congressional investigation to oversee the executive branch investigation, both of which are being led by the very motherfuckers who will benefit from a fruitless investigation into this mess!
Mix until smooth, pour over the entire country and bake for the next three years…until some brave and/or stupid fucker takes over in 2008 and actually tries to eat a portion of Absolute Bullshit on Ice…
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Brother Rob has called another church meeting...
A new club and Boy George...what could be better?
A bitch will not be in town (sob), but please shake your groove thangs with extra fierceness for me...
BOY GEORGE SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1ST, 2005
Who: Boy George, DJ Tomislav, Trevor Matthews VS. Adrian Fox, That 80’s Club!!
What: 21 and over - Boy George for his first ever DJ appearance in STL!!!!
Where: The Formula – GRAND OPENING – 1204 Washington Ave. Saint Louis, MO
When: The party kicks off at Formula at 10pm on Saturday night.
Entry limited to capacity!!
Get there early.Cost: 15 Dollars – Pre-Sales
Rising to the challenge of a certain NuggetMaven…
My ass might hate you if…
- You drive an SUV and you have confused size with entitlement. Scooting over into my lane is not a signal, motherfucker…it’s a challenge that my motherfucking insurance can handle.
- You are critical of election results but don’t fucking vote.
- You bitch about the number of Americans voting but you don’t participate in registration drives or offer to drive a motherfucker to the polls.
- You pontificate about social injustice but don’t do a Gawd damned thing…move motherfucker…take a stand and DO SOMETHING!
- You use the language of revolution but have no revolutionary spirit.
- You hold others to a higher moral standard than your own ass…if it’s wrong for them to do it then it’s wrong for your ass too.
- You have a bumper sticker sporting the Confederate Flag and some dumb-assed caption reading “It’s About Heritage not Hatred”…no, motherfucker, its about a heritage of hatred.
- You confuse an accent with a person’s intelligence…you try learning Chinese in one year, motherfucker! Shit, this bitch can’t get past basic Swedish.
- You confuse pro-choice with pro-murder.
- You confuse my rights with your fucking bitness.
- You confuse bigotry with religion.
- You mouth off about values yet live a life without any.
- You say you are color-blind…you can’t know this bitch without knowing my blackness…and even my fucking Dawg knows a black bitch when she sees one.
- You say things like Black people want…or Your people want…we don’t vote on a universal black opinion, asshole! And if we did, a bitch is pretty sure you wouldn’t like it.
- You pretend that your likes, wants and desires are shared by all…trust a bitch, my ass does not want your life.
- Your insecurity leads you to drop little nuggets of playa-hatin bullshit…does my confidence intimidate you? Tough shit.
- You don’t read…anything…ever.
- You don’t have any original thoughts…thank Gawd for FOX or your ass would be mute!
- You think a quote is going to make your point.
- You care more about reality television than the reality around you.
- You can name all the characters on Friends but can’t name two members of Scooter’s Cabinet.
- You confuse socialism with communism, structure with tyranny and my silence with acceptance.
- You bitch about control but refuse to take it…want to lead, motherfucker? Then lead.
- You confuse your obsession with seeking a long-term relationship with what this bitch wants in her life.
- You confuse fucking with love and love with fucking.
- You ask for my opinion then get pissed off at a bitch for telling your ass the truth.
- You spend all your time pissing in other people’s Corn Flakes and no time living your own life.
- You speculate about who this bitch is fucking, if this bitch is fucking and when this bitch is fucking…is a bitch staring in your imaginary porn?
- You start mess just to agitate then act shocked at the chaos you have created.
- You have bad assed chil’ren and take them out in public…no, they aren’t cute and no a bitch doesn’t want to see Mitzi do her summersault. A bitch just wants to finish my coffee in peace!
- You argue with my black ass about the existence of racism when you’ve never lived one second of one minute as a person of color.
- This bitch can’t stand motherfuckers who are offended by words like bitch and fuck, but can eat dinner while listening to tales of rape, genocide and murder.
- You bitch about the quality of education funding then turn around a vote against a tax increase to fund education.
- You chew with your mouth open…nasty! NASTY! Close your fucking mouth!
- You think that your insecurity about your physical appearance is shared by a bitch…sorry, but my ass is fine as hell and a bitch knows it. Large or small, fat or thin a bitch is cool with my shit.
- You travel to another country then bitch about all the things that aren’t the same…asshole, maybe you should have just gone to Vegas.
- You mouth off about the stray dog problem in St. Louis then turn around and pay $700 for a purebred pooch…from Iowa. Adopt a stray and save a life…it’s a dog, asshole, not an accessory.
- You think its fine if we discuss my fried chicken obsession but wrong if my ass even mentions your wee little pill problem.
- And finally…you merge then signal, signal but don’t turn, honk when a bitch doesn’t run down a pedestrian and generally drive like a freak. Fuck you!
This could go on for days…
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Looks like we are going to Vegas first...a bitch does not gamble, but my ass adores all you can eat yumminess and Cirque semi-nakedness.
A bitch will be blogging while traveling, but a guest blogger may pop up...perhaps Brother Rob, if that bitch is willing.
This bitch would love to meet up chil'ren. Since a bitch's sister has pre-scheduled fun and a trip to see grapes grow, Thursday September 29 and/or Friday September 30 are the best dates to set something up.
Soooooo.....e-mail a bitch at email@example.com and let my ass know where the vodka cran may be found in San Francisco!
Assholes and the black bitch who will no longer suffer them...
Why are some people assholes? Why? A bitch is tired of tired assed lazy bougie motherfuckers! So…my ass has officially kicked that boring, do nothing, talk too much, perpetually annoying black women’s group to the motherfucking curb!
Freedom never felt so good. This bitch shall continue to fulfill my community service obligations without sistah drama! Can my ass get an amen?
A bitch is eternally grateful for the healing and medicinal advice! My ass feels better. And who knew that there were so many different ways to turn alcohol into meds?
Did someone at the Today Show read a bitch’s blog?
This morning a bitch was amazed to see the caption Bush: The Buck Stops Here pop onto my television screen. It seems that the buck and where is stops was the topic of conversation in a certain newsroom. Unfortunately, Scooter’s buck claiming ass didn’t exactly word his shit right.
“To the extent that any fuck ups were the fault of the federal government I take responsibility” isn’t exactly an all-inclusive head of the fucking federal government Trumanesque statement. But what can a bitch expect out of a dawg but a bark?
Moving forward after multitudes of vodka and coffee sans coin...
ABB’s Medicinal Alcohol Consumption Induced Dream…
In a dark room deep in the bowels of The White House…
Scooter, seated in his favorite beanbag chair, sat looking gloomy and depressed. His minions slouched on a nearby sofa, carefully avoiding eye contact with each other.
“Why does everyone hate me? Don’t they know that I’m a uniter not a divider? Why don’t they just unite? This shit is so un-American!”
Suddenly, the door opens. In walks Barbara Sr., face sour and lips tight.
Babs Sr…"You’d think my ass could catch a fucking break! Jesus, who do these assholes think they are? Fucking liberals and their love of the poor!”
Scooter, lifting his head with hope in his eyes…"Did you make it all better Mother? Did you make those evil doers stop saying mean things?”
“Shit, those fuckers are irrational,” Babs Sr. pauses to light a cigar. “Drown the poor and they start screaming. Provide a shelter and they bitch about how long it will be in place. Point out that dorm style living can be fun and they call you the reincarnation of…oh fuck…who was that bitch who told peasants to eat cake? Anyway, I had no luck. Now they hate me too!”
The minions, sensing a firing in the air, hold their breath.
“Mother, I don’t want to do this anymore. This is hard work!” Scooter whines and begins to sob.
Babs Sr., tapping ash off the end of her stogie, leans against Scooter’s bedtime cage…"Why don’t I make you some nice warm milk? Would that help Mommies little accident…err…angel?”
Scooter nods and Babs exits the room.
Scooter begins to rock in misery...“It’s all gone to shit! My war isn’t triumphant. Shit, it isn’t even valid! My Father has replaced me in his affections with another former President…a fucking Democrat! He’d rather golf with a motherfucking Democrat! My Mother has all the compassion of Attila the Hun. My chil’ren are…well…lets just say a few trip to rehab wouldn’t hurt. My wife has been so fucking programmed that she’s incapable of an unscripted thought. The economy sucks, the fucking South thinks I’m the rebirth of Sherman marching on Atlanta and Gawd keeps send more storms to punish me! Top that off with a Supreme Court nominee who says words I can’t understand and all I want to do is got back to Texas. This Presidency thing makes mismanaging oil companies look easy!”
One brave minion stands up. Taking a deep breath, Condi approaches Scooter.
“Baby doll, I think there’s something you should see.”
Taking his hand, she guides him to the computer. With some quick clicks, she pulls up AngryBlackBitch.com.
“What’s this?” Scooter whispers.
“This is a blog. There’s some angry black woman mouthing off. Obviously, I don’t agree with her. Rumor has it that she’s sexy as hell, but that’s beside the point. She has some ideas that may help you turn the tide. Lets try this one out tomorrow…responsibility. Mmmmkay?”
Scooter, desperate for a glimmer of hope, turns and hugs Condi’s brittle body.
“I know just what I’m going to say!” He proclaims, as Babs Sr. re-enters the room. She pauses and observes Scooter, Condi and the minions dancing in a fiendish circle around the beanbag chair.
“Settle down and drink your milk. It’s almost time for you to go into the cage.”
And so, our intellectually challenged President ended his day…high on the hope that "responsibility" would save the day…
But, alas, he fucked that shit up. The language of personal accountability and leadership were simply too foreign to him!
A bitch will have to instruct him with the merciless rod of correction tonight…
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
2 cups coffee followed by Splenda and a powdered milk substitute (no time to go to the market and get my beloved organic milk), 1 Claritin, 2 fake assed governmentally regulated Sudafed and cigs…
Thank GAWD NYPaganChick is back! A sistah missed you!
On a different fucking note...
AbsolutBilly alerted a bitch to a Katrina fundraising event coming up at Atomic Cowboy on Manchester. This Wednesday, at Atomic Cowboy, Becca (a beloved bartender) is holding a fundraiser. They are not looking for money but instead for toys, clothes, toiletries etc. Atomic Cowboy will donate a % of drink sales to the cause. There are door prizes (Cards tix, gift baskets, gift certificates, bar tabs etc). So, check it out! We need to welcome Atomic Cowboy to the Manchester strip…
A bitch was trying to come to terms with my new state of congestion, when Katie Couric's dumb ass said some dumb assed shit. She was interviewing some dude about Scooter’s presidential drama…
“Can you remember a time in our nation’s history when a President faced so many challenges at one time?”
Dude in response…”Well, FDR faced a war, and environmental crisis, the Great Depression and economic instability.”
Okay, thank you for making Katie look like a dumb shit.
Katie, proving once and for all that she should never go off-script…”True, but no other President faced the threat of terrorist attacks on American soil.”
ABB’s Rant on Media Fools…
Regular readers know that this bitch cannot stand Katie Couric. My ass finds her judgmental, repressed, too nasal and generally a star-fucking embarrassment to women in journalism. Now, some may wonder why a bitch bothers to watch the Today Show. My ass feels that someone needs to monitor the highest rated morning news show…this is the shit that most Americans watch and this bitch wants to keep an eye on what they are learning.
A bitch adores history. As a result, this bitch often overestimates the average media hacks ability to reference history when mouthing off about the current state of our world. However, when a media professional actually covered an event this bitch does not think it’s asking too much for them to remember it.
Terrorists bombed the World Trade Center in 1993. Oklahoma City also suffered a terrorist attack in 1995…although that terrorist was home grown. Katie covered them both, which is why this bitch is amazed that she can’t seem to remember them. Oh, and we had a President…who was in office…when they happened. Dumb ass. Maybe if those bombings had featured Jennifer Anniston or Jude Law Katie would remember them, since she knows every pimple on their backsides.
Stop saying our ass has never been attacked on our own soil…Pearl Harbor was bombed, motherfuckers! It happened…on American soil. Oh, and just for shits and grins, a bitch would like to point out that America was invaded by the British in 1812.
During the Civil Rights struggles of the 1950’s and ‘60s there were so many bombings in Birmingham Alabama that the town was referred to as Bombingham. No one…and this bitch means no one…should view the bombings that took place there as anything other than terrorist attacks on American soil.
A bitch is tired of all the motherfucking assholes trying to put our current situation on some sort of pedestal. Scooter ran for office...the presidency didn't happen to him like an assault…he coveted an office that came with a ton of shit, because a ton of shit has happened to motherfuckers while serving as president! What you should be doing is calling his ass out for the look of confusion and surprise he has the audacity to wear on his face.
Shit is fucked up and has been fucked up before. Actually, that’s a pretty juicy story! Why the fuck are we back here again? Can these motherfuckers learn? Rip the scab off that one and this bitch will eagerly explore the texture and nature of the puss revealed.
If you’re going to cover a story then cover it well, with historical context and some fucking research.
Otherwise, just sit down and read the motherfucking prompter.
Monday, September 12, 2005
2 cups coffee followed by Splenda and 1% organic milk, 2 Claritin, 2 fake assed Sudafed and cigs…
Shall we proceed…?
Update…a bitch’s brother’s job situation…
Regular readers know that a bitch’s brother is autistic. This bitch visits him every week for McDonald’s, snacks and a drive. Saturday the Bitch Squad (ABB, a bitch’s sister and brother) headed to McDonald’s in search of grease. As required for any visit with Bill, we had the radio on. As we approached McDonald’s an up-tempo gospel song came on the radio. Bill has never been a huge gospel fan and he never really attended church as a child, but damn if his ass didn’t get happy and turn up the volume. He was so wired he never really calmed down. Note to self…energetic gospel has the same affect on Bill as Stevie Wonder. DRAMA!
Bill’s job will come to an end in December. He has worked at Chic-Fil-A for several years and, as my ass has said before, loves his job. My sister and this bitch met with Bill’s case manager to go over options. What we found out was amazing.
Over the past five years Missouri has switched from requiring employment in order to qualify for Medicaid to discouraging employment and back again. This year, they are switching back to discouragement. So, Bill’s job is coming to an end and his service providers are recommending that he not find another “job” because it could impact whether he receives Medicaid. Fascinating! You should know that his income is only $67 per month…$67 per month will disqualify him for Medicaid in Missouri. Hold on, it gets better! This policy extends to all Medicaid recipients. So, the new Medicaid policy is set up to punish individuals who seek employment…the standard is that, should your ass work you had better have health care coverage. If you don’t work you are guaranteed coverage. Remember those 150,000 souls who were kicked off of Medicaid because they had the audacity to be the working poor? Yeah, my ass guesses Baby Blunt is holding on the belief that the private sector will trickle some health care coverage down on their low wage no healthcare qualifying trying to get some experience so they can go for those healthcare included jobs asses. Dumb assed motherfucker!
Given this new "structure", the Bitch Squad is now seeking volunteer opportunities for Bill. We have excellent options and hope to have Bill placed at Operation Food Search (one of a bitch’s favorite organizations) soon. OFS provides food to tons of area food banks and shelters. Bill will have lots of space to twirl around in and be able to sort and organize without too much supervision. Keep those fingers crossed!
Staying on the topic of Missouri…
Matt Blunt is an idiot. He is also our Governor. Over the last 24 hours we have all witnessed the Federal Government tell the American people that disaster response operations are managed from the bottom up. Isn’t it time to ask Matt what his plan is? And how about St. Louis, Mayor Slay? And why exactly do we pay FEMA anyway, if our local authorities are responsible for this shit?
But ABB, is disaster response solely the responsibility of state and local officials?
Good question chil’ren!
ABB’s Take on Who is Supposed to Be Driving the Motherfucking Bus…
Settle in chil’ren. Gather ‘round, now…
A bitch’s sister, who is the genius of the family, was reading our favorite Angry Swede’s blog the other night. Pissed off Pencil wrote about the information he was able to gather on the Katrina debacle. Someone commented that there was plenty of blame to go around…which, if you watch a lot of news television, is clearly the talking point spin the RNC has settled on. Crystal, a bitch’s brilliant dred headed sister, got fired up and hit on an awesome point.
Missouri native, Harry Truman (Tru to this bitch, though we are not close) had some very specific ideas about responsibility and the presidency. A bitch has always liked Truman, because regardless of how your ass feels about his actions the motherfucker took responsibility for them…
Tru on responsibility…the buck stops here.
This statement was derived from the pass the buck phrase. Pass the buck is what this administration seems to be doing. Tru believed that leaders don’t pass the buck…taking responsibility for the buck is what leadership is all about.
In his farewell address to the American people, way back in 1953, Tru said…"The President--whoever he is--has to decide. He can't pass the buck to anybody. No one else can do the deciding for him. That's his job.”
Maybe a bitch is crazy, but that’s my kind of leadership. Keep in mind; Tru said this as he left the office of the President of the United States…after the turbulent racial challenges, after WWII and the decision to bomb Japan…after he had already done plenty of shit most people would want to pass the buck on.
A bitch is my brother’s co-guardian. As such, my ass is confronted with tons of situations that this bitch would love to pass on the responsibility of. The current job/volunteer situation comes to mind. But responsibility requires leadership and, with leadership, comes accountability. A bitch is accountable and responsible and there will be no buck passing on my watch!
Think about it as you listen to the peevish little shits in charge of our current government…as they...well…pass the buck.
Note to those seeking the presidency...lead by example, work the problem and know that the motherfucking buck stops right in front of your ass!
Thanks for clearing the mechanism, Crystal.
Friday, September 09, 2005
After the class this bitch went to visit the babies. There was a newborn, just one-week old, and a bitch nestled her into my arms and sat down in the rocking chair...heart to heart, her tiny head rested against my shoulder. My eyes closed and this bitch began to weep.
This small new life and all of the possibilities held within it humbled me.
A bitch opened my eyes and looked into the wise young eyes of the infant’s mother. She smiled and ran her palm over her baby’s soft damp hair.
“She’s my everything. Having her was like winning the lottery!”
Yes. Oh yes, my sister...
2 cups coffee with Splenda followed by 1% organic milk, 1 Claritin and 2 fake assed government regulated Sudafed…
A bitch knows that this is going to be hard. We are in the middle of a crisis and a tragedy. A certain someone sent me an e-mail about a huge drama unfolding at the Armory in D.C. – soldiers with weapons intimidating evacuees, children without parents left to fend for themselves and a huge lack of mental health professionals to deal with the inevitable mental health crisis that will arise from this drama.
If you are a trained mental health professional, please contact the local agencies that are providing for evacuees and offer your assistance. If you are in the D.C. area, see if you can’t scoot down to the Armory and add a dash of humanity to this exercise in governmental bullshit. Be persistant…your fellow Americans need you now.
A bitch would like to thank my friend in vodka AbsolutBilly for donating tons of shampoo and soap! Your donation will help Katrina survivors, Nurses for Newborns and the women of Haven of Grace. Go on with your bad self!
A bitch is exhausted and there is so much more to be done.
Scooter has called for a national day of prayer on September 16. A bitch is calling for a national decade of service. Pray if you want to, but a bitch plans to act too...
A bitch could rant about the FEMA director’s bullshit resume, the fuck-up over the debit cards or the stupid posturing going on in D.C. But this bitch is going to leave that for another day.
A brief southern exploration…
A bitch was born in Minnesota…in February, which might be why my ass is so bitchy. But my people come from the south. My mother’s family is from Mississippi and my father’s people settled in Virginia. A bitch is closer to my mother’s family and that Mississippi sensibility that survived their northern migration to Pennsylvania after WWII.
Mississippi is alive in my memories of my grandmother. Her spotless home and her ability to stretch a holiday turkey on for days. Grandma O.T. always had something sweet in the house and was quick to tell your ass to mind when you stepped out of line. A bitch thought her a queen…majestic and elegant and tough as nails.
My ass was fascinated with her “ways”…like never leave the house without a face of make-up on and never walk into church looking shabby. Grandma O.T. was a sight to see on her way to church. My fondest memory of her was one fine Sunday when she emerged from her bedroom smelling of White Shoulders. Her head was held high and she knew she looked good. She wore a jewel blue ensemble with a matching hat and new shoes. Her jewelry was coordinated and her new wig was fluffed to maximum curl amplification. As she walked out the door my ass finally took a breath. Lawd, what a beautiful black woman! What power and pride and sass!
That’s Mississippi…grace and dignity and the ability to keep it real. Mississippi is wealth and poverty, dignity and a tragic past. It’s pride and honor coupled with sadness and shame. Mississippi will stretch that holiday turkey to last five days and feed ten people. She’ll weather the storm and emerge looking like a queen bedecked in brilliant blue…majestic, elegant and tough as nails.
A bitch is holding my breath and waiting to see what emerges from the devastation.
To my brothers and sisters in the Gulf...go on with your bad self!
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Last night Brother Rob and this bitch went to Freddie’s to support their on-going fundraising effort towards hurricane relief. Sorry if my ass missed anyone, but a bitch left at 7:30pm to go home and be ill.
Suffice it to say, a bitch has been struggling to focus in the face of so much drama…
2 cups coffee with Splenda followed by 1% organic milk, 1 Claritin, 2 fake assed Sudafed and cigs…
A wise woman once told a bitch that only a fool refuses to listen. This bitch is no fool. My ass is grateful for the many comments that have resulted from my posts on poverty. The various opinions reflect the complex nature of our situation…but we need to have this discussion and then we need to act. A bitch does not want to come off as some sort of 1980’s empowerment through assimilation ass…in my perfect world the people would not want for the basics, which would change the definition of poverty. This bitch’s opinions on poverty are based on the world we live in, not the world we should live in. In this world, poverty makes you vulnerable and invisible…we have all seen how dangerous that combination can be.
Trust that this bitch is motivated by a concern for my own ass (broke as a motherfucker) and my community (also broke as a motherfucker). This bitch hopes that our continued discussion, both online and within the communities we live in, will result in some fucking social change!
The Asshole in the Red Ford Pick-up Who Cut This Bitch Off...
A motherfucker cut my ass off on the drive to work. Some complete asshole driving a HUGE pick-up truck decided he wanted to go when his ass needed to stop and pulled in front of a bitch when my ass had the right of way! Motherfucker! A bitch cannot stand arrogant shits driving massive trucks who think the road is theirs. Don’t they know a bitch isn’t right in the head? Fucker had the audacity to drive slow as a motherfucker after he cut this bitch off! Missouri drivers suck! Lawd have mercy, a bitch is grateful my ass doesn’t own a gun…
Every now and then, a person has an opportunity to right a wrong. Some have risen to the challenge of doing the right thing rather than doing the politically advantageous thing. Others are cowards because they have fucked up their first journey in office. A bitch wonders…if you were an elected official and you knew you had no chance in hell of being re-elected, what would you do? We already know what Arnold chose to do…
Live for Today…
This morning a bitch kicked off her day with CNN. After watching a disturbing segment on how Chicago firefighters are camped outside of a fire-prone New Orleans because FEMA can’t get its shit together, a bitch switched over to those wild kids at the Today Show.
Imagine my surprise when Katie asked…
“How are first responders dealing with the many fires that have broken out in the city?”
Well, Katie, the question should be…
“Why the fuck are firefighters being kept in limbo while New Orleans firefighters work until they drop?”
Commissions or Hearings…
A bitch would like to make a public statement on the current debate in Washington D.C. regarding hearings on the Katrina fuckeduptitude. My ass does not want some bullshit commission with no authority to investigate this shit. True, they may be able to uncover more information because they would be independent. However, this kind of fuck-up should result in criminal charges and a bitch knows a commission can’t do that. Fuck the hearing idea…you get three Senators in a room and you can bet your house not a damn things will get done.
This bitch is calling for a revival of an old Republican favorite…the independent counsel. MmmmmHmmm. If a sloppy blowjob in the Oval Office qualifies, don’t you think thousands of dead Americans should too?
Accountability and leadership go hand in hand. Let the political bloodbath begin!
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
2 cups coffee, 1 Claritin, 2 government regulated fake-assed Sudafed, 2 Excedrin and cigs...
This morning, Katie Couric was wading through the sewage in New Orleans…her nose screwed up and her shirt crisp and white.
“Most Americans are shocked that so many people were living in poverty!”…Katie said as her cameraman stood knee deep in shit-water trying to get her good side.
That, Katie, is both bullshit and the motherfucking problem.
A wake up call for us all…
A bitch does not see the Katrina fucktitude as a wake up call for conservatives alone. People will find a way to absolve themselves of their role in this shit. 52% of this country voted for Scooter…to address the role that his fuck-ups played in this disaster would be to self-indict, and people are not known to do that without a fight.
Why are we moving swiftly to the blame game and not looking at our own behavior? To really change our environment don’t we have to examine all the folks playing in the pool?
Katrina needs to be a wake up call for all of us.
Liberals…before we feast on the carcass of republican moral supremacy we need to examine our own behavior. Where were Hillary, Kerry and Dean? Where are our so-called liberal leaders? That’s right…sitting in a conference room with their public relations hack trying to find the right angle on this shit. Lawd knows no power hungry liberal with an eye on the presidency would choose to speak his or her mind at a time like this! No! Better to indulge in spin and examine the polls first. Motherfuckers.
We need new leadership and we need to stop looking to the same fuckers who fucked up previously for that leadership. Anyone who has pontificated about how now is not a time for politics needs to have his or her name erased from the leadership list. Anyone who hasn’t raised his or her voice in outrage needs to explain why! And this bitch would like to see my fellow liberals call out our own on their bullshit too. This is how they beat us, chil’ren. It is time to take back our party and restore traditional DEMOCRATIC values back to the platform.
The working class needs to cease separating itself from the issue of poverty. If your ass is living paycheck to paycheck then your ass is one paycheck away from being evicted and having your car repossessed. Stop deluding yourself that “those people” are living such uncertain lives. “We” are living uncertain lives. There, but for the grace of Gawd, goes this bitch!
Black people need to step back and examine how we abandoned our poor along with the rest of America. This bitch has been hollering for years about the apathetic, middle class, got your ass a degree and now you don’t want to be seen as up from slavery bitches who can’t spare one hour a week to fucking participate in the lives of a fellow black woman. My own ass grew up so far from the city that a bitch was shocked to learn how fucking black St. Louis is! This is our creation too…black churches that condemn gays but turn the other way at chil'ren having chil'ren and rampant hetero adultery…middle class blacks who attend church in the hood but are too busy to swing by and teach a literacy class…black intellectuals who are so removed from the struggle that they refer to their own people as something other than black…black princesses and princes who play the celebrity game while seeking to exploit poor black’s obsession with material items by branding some sad assed perfume as the new cool $200/ounce item worth selling your soul for.
No, my ass is not done…poor blacks that act like they are the first generation to be fucking poor. Every fucking generation of my family was poor and they still found a way to be clean, get an education and seek out industry. Poverty is not a blank check for ignorant assed behavior, motherfuckers. Having a baby is not a ticket to a complete lack of self-respect and dignity!
There was a time when the most revered black women were our teachers and nurses…now our children idolize young women who spend half their time confusing their own sexualized exploitation with feminism and the rest of their time trying to maintain the popularity their "black woman in heat" media image has created. Take a moment and search out dignity, pride and personal responsibility…you know, the kind of shit you find in your soul not the motherfucking mall.
Before we cast a shadow on the system we must examine how we all surrendered our own to that system.
American poverty was not created in some distant far away land then dropped into our cities and rural communities in the dead of night. Poverty is right in front of us…yet invisible, as the reactions of both liberals and conservatives demonstrate.
If this is to be a true examination then we must examine all the angles. Otherwise, we’ll just throw money at the problem then settle down for Thanksgiving dinner having convinced ourselves that this catastrophe is fixed and could never happen again. At that point, what separates our behavior from “their” behavior?
One more time…how many people in your community live in poverty? There are programs in desperate need of volunteers…not your money, but your time. There are communities in desperate need of your presence…the visual confirmation that not all people are the same, not all women have to hustle for the car note, not all people self-medicate their depression away, not all broke assed motherfuckers resort to crime, not all gay people are white, not all feminists are lesbians, not all lesbians are feminists, not all white people hate you and not all black people love your ass.
Looking at the failure of others is often easier than examining what we ourselves have failed to do.
A bitch's eyes are open, chil’ren, and focused as much on a bitch’s role as the role of the other side.
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