Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Happy Halloween, y’all...

A bitch adores Halloween…the caramel apples…the multitudes of Smarties…the additional chocolate based candy…and the candy that is always left over.


This holiday kicks ass!

A bitch read the news that a certain Oprah gifted her studio audience with…well, with the gift of giving back and was intrigued. Apparently, Ms. O gave $1,000 gift cards to each audience member. The total amount distributed was $300,000.

"Imagine the love and kindness you can spread with $1,000." Oprah said.

Folks can give the money to one person or spread the wealth. Basically, Oprah wanted people to experience the joy of giving money and/or the things money can getcha…which this bitch supports, since money can get a lot of necessary things.

Money is a necessary thing and anyone who has volunteered or worked for a non-profit knows that shit…big time! So, this bitch is glad that Oprah took the time to pitch the emotional benefits of gifting. Shit, she’s even going to do a follow up show with footage shot by audience members, who were given DVD recorders to document their giving moments!

Mmmhmm…someone’s very clever...very, very clever.

A bitch has given money and a bitch has given of my time. Both are vital to our communities and should be valued and emotionally inspiring.

In the interest of balance (okay, a bitch knows my audience ain’t shit compared to Oprah’s…but y’all are exceptionally fantabulous) a bitch would like to pump up the volunteer side.

This bitch started volunteering because my ass was and is broke but my License to Bitch requires that I practice what I preach (wink). Volunteering provides an understanding of my community that I simply could not gain from a distance.

When I moved back to St. Louis I was amazed by the huge variety of organizations, clubs and projects that I could volunteer in support of. So many opportunities…so few volunteers. Some of those opportunities required long term commitments while others could be done in a few hours with friends. All contained the unique satisfaction of physically and emotionally giving back.

I became a volunteer because I wanted to address a need in my community…being a volunteer has addressed the need in me and fed a hunger I wasn’t even aware was there.


You’ll will soon get hit with fundraising pitches, invitations, mailings and phone calls. A bitch will probably hit y’all up to support some of my favorite things (wink) too.

But I’d also like to encourage y’all to sample the variety of giving options…your check book is one and your time is another. Keep in mind that volunteering can be a very good thing for everyone involved!

A bitch hopes that y’all have a safe and properly naughty Halloween…

Monday, October 30, 2006

Pondering dubious distinctions…

A bitch woke up this morning to the news that my ass lives in the most dangerous city in America.


We’re #1.

Whooo followed by hoo.

Heaven to hell and back again, St. Louis is more violent than Compton!

Lawd, give me strength.

This is not news to city dwellers who listen to reports of shootings, murders and all manner of violence nightly on the news. This bitch knew St. Louis was violent.

But daaaaaaaamn…a bitch hates to hear that we are the most violent city in America whilst drinking my morning coffee.



A bitch has just finalized my pre-election volunteer schedule…lots of phone banking and door knocking for candidates (if this bitch calls you you’d best pick up)…and that reminded me that my ass hasn’t worked on my Election Day plan.

Lawd, where did October go?

A Bitch’s Election Day Plan
Get my vote on first thing in the morning
Breakfast with C-Money
Drive first round of students to the polls
Lunch followed by fret-based checking of the news
Drive second round of students to the polls
Continue frettage
Drive final group of students to the polls
Feed hounds their dinner followed by walk
Dine at Sweetie Pie’s and enjoy smothered yumminess and political chatter
Celebrate closing of polls with cocktails at Grandma’s Politician Lounge on Manchester
Continue celebration or drowning of sorrows at AMP!

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Yeah Cards!

Congrats to the 2006 St. Louis Cardinals, who won the World Series Friday night!

A bitch did my part by not following the team at all this season.

My fan support is bad luck...just look at the Blues (wince).

Fuck it. This bitch still believes in miracles...old-time hockey...go Blues!



Oh! Sorry, we're talking baseball. Where was I?

Victory is ours!

Yeah Cards!

Y'all were fantabulous...

Friday, October 27, 2006

Friday bitchitude...

This bitch has a busy weekend planned.

Fresh tube of MAC Underworld lipstick...check.
Proper quantities of Excedrin for post party recovery...check!
A calendar full of social-based events with fantabulous people...check.

Ahh, how a bitch loves the social season.

On a personal note…

Dear Ms. Nicole Richie,

A bitch had no fucking idea who you were until Paris Hilton of the vacant stare and ho’ish flare Hilton’s splashed your feud all over the television. You soon dropped out of my mind…until all this talk about your thin…very thin…ooooooh, someone get that child some grits thin self hit the television sorta-news cycle.

Ms. Richie...Nicole...I sincerely hope that you recover from...umm, well you say it isn’t an eating disorder…what the fuck is it then?...if you were an infant, they would call it a failure to thrive.


A bitch sincerely hopes that you recover from your failure to thrive!

As an expert in weight gain and holding on to the weight post gainage, this bitch would like to offer my assistance!

That’s right, Nicole! For the low, low fee of $1 million dollars (cash) this bitch will teach you the secrets of eating to gain.

Classes would include…

Cornbread – Not Something to Dread
Grits and Farina – Fun with Butter and Honey
And my personal favorite…
Ice Cream – The New Breakfast of Champions!

Call me, m'dear.

Oy vey!

Chil'ren, all this denial and interview based for press maximization denial and then treatment center entrance followed by additional denial of what may or may not be a rather serious thang for a somewhat insignificant celebrity is beyond tired.

Who made these chil'ren fear cornbread?

And why do I give a shit?

Glad you asked.

The other day my mentee, who is 13, asked me if she looked fat. Some boy told her she was and she really, really, really…really, really, really likes him…so "should she loose weight or not?". She followed that up with..."I wanna be thin like ***some celebrity a bitch can't remember***!"


This child is thin already. Her family is poor and food is not always around. Nutrition? Shit. Her body image concerns and response to some young man at school bothered me all the more because my mentee has enough shit going on to add the thin-like-her game to the list.


Turn on the television set…flip though a magazine…listen to the radio…and the discussion is about weight.

Network news anchors manifest split personalities on the topic…this week's diet is featured on Monday while childhood obesity is featured Wednesday with cooking segments scattered about covering nutrition and greed and everything in between.

Layer on the celebrities and there’s no wonder why my beyond broke one meal a day eating and thin enough already to concern me mentee is considering a diet.

If Nicole has an eating disorder, then I wish she would disclose...the public she courted is watching and taking notes. If not...well, a bitch is available for those eating lessons.

This shit makes me wanna holla…throw up both my hands (wink)…and tell the world that cornbread may be a 'sometime food', but the eating of it is not something to dread...

Thursday, October 26, 2006

By request - Some thoughts on Obama 2008…

A certain Jeremy has asked for a bitch’s thoughts on Senator Obama’s possible run for President in 2008.

I thought Senator Obama’s keynote speech during the most recent Democratic National Convention was amazing. It moved me to tears…and inspired me in a way I hadn’t been inspired in some time.

There is a huge part of me that wants Senator Obama to run just to have the ‘audacity of hope’ become a part of our national discussion.


But a bitch needs more than an inspiring phrase. I need substance…policies that will reward the audacity of hope with the rarity of progressive change.

My job as a citizen is to demand those policies along with that vision of Senator Obama…as I do of all candidates courting my vote.

So, I’m going to be cautious here.

Mayhap the media should be cautious too. As much as I understand the appeal…the attraction of a viable candidate of color…the allure of a woman with a chance…as much as I understand that shit, this bitch also understands my role in this process.

The frenzy is starting early…there will be no incumbent in the Presidential field in '08…and the only things a bitch can control are my expectations and my vote.

This bitch is embracing the audacity of hope by remaining undecided for now…

No message could have been any clearer...

Yes, this bitch caught Madonna on Oprah yesterday.

Hit pause.

Note – a bitch is switching to an affected Detroit meets London via New York and Miami accent.

Hit play.

No, a bitch is not moved to change my opinion.

Blink…blink again, as if trying to gain composure.

Honestly (very haughty here, please), the show made my head hurt terribly.


Something about watching two of the world’s richest women (watch your phrasing, now…you know the rich speak slowly and carefully)…two women known internationally by their first name…discuss whether money and celebrity makes shit happen faster in Africa blew my mind.

Dust unseen dust particle from sleeve.

I must confess that this bitch is a trained Anthropologist (Aaaahnthowpologist…more air = more British, right?), not a pop star. I almost hesitate to weigh in on the cultural implications of “everyone”…and that means folks on holiday (that’s what they call a vacation ‘cross “The Pond”) from the developed world…who visits Africa “saving a life” via adoption.

Again, I am not a pop star…sniff…but it seems to me that Madonna was moved…deeply moved…very moved, almost to tears but for her make-up...by the poverty and disease she witnessed and wanted to give a child a "better" life. In reality, she has no idea whether money influenced the process...unless I missed something in her over-documented personal history, she has never tried to adopt in Africa whilst broke.


None of this would matter if it didn't confuse a poorly understood issue...how to aid Africa without fucking up again and/or removing Africans.


As for Oprah’s praise of Madonna as brave...well, a bitch shall borrow one of Ms. O’s favorite words…I’m shocked, SHOCKED (lots of air and hit the “C” hard) to hear such praise being tossed about.

Drop accent…Gawd, how the fuck does she maintain that? Jesus, that shit is tiresome.


The aid workers on the ground are brave…the organizations that have worked for years to address the damage done by colonial neglect, war, corruption and greed are brave. The doctors and foundations working to end death by malaria, which took David’s mother’s life, are brave. The humanitarians who advocate debt forgiveness…those who advocate for adjusted pricing of meds and food...the activists who venture into Darfur to document the unthinkable so that no one can ever say they didn’t know are brave.

Madonna going on Oprah to discuss the drama of being that baby's sorta-momma?

Uh, no.

As for shame, because according to Ms. Thang I’m supposed to be ashamed of myself (blink)…I don’t think so. International adoption and what Madonna just done did are two radically different species. Trust me…I’ve friends who waited YEARS to adopt from abroad, who spent their life savings to bring their child to America and who did so out of love and want, not pity or misplaced guilt.

Shit, they even managed to get it done without a film crew and a dance sequence.

Mayhap Madonna should look at the diva in the mirror and make that change...

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

The Great Linguistic Flip Flop of 2006…

A bitch dreamed a little dream last night…about the President (Scooter B. to this bitch), his minions and a certain phrase that just kept playing and playing and playing over and over again for years until reality pissed in the RNC’s Cornflakes inspiring a Congress-based minion revolt which then forced a linguistic flip flop.

Note to newish readers – the following is this bitch’s recollection of a dream my ass had last night and in no way reflects reality. It may, however, reflect the two shots of Nyquil a bitch consumed before slumber (wink).

A Bitch's Dream - The Great Linguistic Flip Flop of 2006
Alone in the Oval, Scooter B. sat staring blankly at the peanut butter and jelly sandwich before him, appetite gone due to the never ending hard work of his office. A minion came forward with a glass of ice cold milk hoping to break Scooter B. of his malaise, but the President seemed not to notice.

Scooter B. sighed heavily and looked up as Karl Rove entered the room.


“Karl” the president replied.

“I can see by the look on your face that the gravity of the situation is apparent to you.” Rove said, his eyes never leaving Scooter B.’s face.

Scooter sighed again. “Yes, Karl. I just don’t know what to do about it.” His voice took on a whining tone. “Honestly, I think Anna Nicole should submit to the DNA tests! Shit, Karl, if she’s right what’s she so scared of? Why not just…”

Scooter B. broke off mid sentence and ducked under his desk…spilling milk on the disturbingly uncluttered desk surface…as Rove heaved the files he was carrying across the room.

“Jesus H. Christ! We are on the verge of loosing Congress and you are sitting here deeply troubled over Anna Nicole Smith and who her baby’s daddy may or may not be? We are at war, asshole…domestically and abroad!” Rove sputtered and kicked a chair.

Taking deep measured breathes, he counted to 100. “Get up, sit down and shut the fuck up.”

Scooter B. emerged from beneath the desk. “You spilled my milk!”


Scooter B. took his seat and frowned at the milk spillage like a defiant toddler.

“Congress is rebelling. The polls are showing the most Americans think this war is off course…and that we are insane for wanting to 'stay the course' that is taking us straight into someone else’s civil war. Do you understand me?” Rove paused until Scooter B. nodded. “Good. Our fear based campaigning will only work is the masses think we are the party to protect them. Right now we look like the party most likely not to able to find our ass with both our hands.”

Scooter B. rolled his eyes and stuck his lip out.

“We need to give the impression of being open to exploring options without appearing to change course, because you mouthed off one time too many about how changing the course is 'cutting and running'…you stupid fuck!” Rove bit off each word.

Folding his arms, Scooter B. muttered bitterly…"I’m the motherfucking decider, ass. That means I get to decide. I’m a two termer! Deciders don’t cut and run because…” A book hit him smartly on the forehead.

“Shut up! You will sign this…it will be sent to the minions to calm them the hell down…you will go forth and say 'stay the course' no more. Talk about anything else. The economy even!” Rove rose and shoved the papers under Scooter B.’s nose.

As Scooter slowly printed his name Rove shifted to gaze out the window.

“We will present a united hair splitting rhetoric changing without substantive policy shifting front.”

Scooter B. looked up hopefully “Then I get to be the decider again, right? Right Karl? Right?”

But this time Rove didn’t respond with support, his usual fatherly hair ruffle and the promise of cookies before bedtime.

The room remained silent...with only the ticking of the clock...

Tick and tock.



Monday, October 23, 2006


A bitch hopes y’all had a fantabulous weekend!

This bitch enjoyed the hell out of The Dresden Dolls. If everyone took the stage with as much humor and fun as The Dresden Dolls live music wouldn’t suck so damned much! They were fantastical…and the hordes of black on black wearing frown-based youth were a joy to observe too.

Oh, to be young and vampiricly punk again.



That’s Just My Baby’s Daddy…
A bitch wanted to update y’all on the Madonna adoption option thang.


Well, this is about Madonna’s baby’s daddy...pending the legalities.

Sheesh (wink).

The latest news is that the father of the Malawian child Madonna is…well, plans to…ummm, has custody of…oh, fuck it…has possession of at the moment outside of the country of Malawi...


Jesus to Gawd, this much drama has to be hazardous to our health!



Where was I?

Yes, Madonna’s pending baby’s daddy is now saying that he never intended Madonna to be his baby’s momma (had to…this bitch just had to go there…shit, you thought it too).

Mr. Banda claims that…well, here’s what he had to say...

“Had they told us that Madonna wanted to adopt my son and make him her own son, we would not have agreed to that," Banda said through a translator. “It would have been better for him to continue staying at the orphanage because I see no reason why my child should be given away forever when I can feed him,"

Lawd, have mercy.

Freshen up those drama fallout bunkers, chil’ren...this shit is escalating fast as a motherfucker!

Friday, October 20, 2006

Let the music play...

Happy Friday!

One of my new pairs of eyeglasses is in, y'all. I’m jumping into Miss Sistah Girl Cabrio to pick them up at lunch! This bitch hopes they are the funktified pair (as you may recall, my ass took advantage of the buy one get one free deal), because a bitch wants to debut them at The Dresden Dolls concert tomorrow at The Pageant.


A bitch’s tastes are very diverse (wink).


This bitch’s outfit will be the shit no matter what, but I want those new eyeglasses as a finishing touch.

Moving forward…

I was planning to write about the breaking news that just keeps on breaking out of North Korea and how the Dear Leader is now expressing regret over going nuclear after having been told to chill their ass out by China.

A bitch is curious about that shit. My ass is having a hard time buying the party line (wink) that China had no idea and that the Hermit Kingdom would defy the world. That just doesn’t pass the smell test. Seems to this bitch that North Korea got the bargaining power that comes with nuclear capabilities…and China was able to establish that they are the only country capable of reasoning with them.

A bitch is still mulling this shit over.

Anyhoo, that international shit is on hold…because a bitch just read this and has to do a happiness and joy dance in my work-based area!

Fraggle Rock is being made into a movie!

Oh, it gets better.

Pause to maintain drama.

Ahmet Zappa is developing it into a full length musical spectacular featuring the founding Fraggles in all their magnificent Fraggle-based glory!

Oh shit…oh, my Gawd!

Give a bitch a second.


This is fantastically fabulous news…fan-fucking-tabulous even!

Mmmmhmmm, a bitch is doing a sharktastic dance about my work area whilst singing...

Dance your cares away…worry's for another day…let the music play…down at Fraggle Rock!

Thursday, October 19, 2006

A bitch has been found out...

A certain Rileysdtr has found a bitch out (wink)! Very good eye, my friend…very good indeed.

This bitch took a spin over at Salon.com’s Broadsheet yesterday (October 18th) and would like to extend a very sincere thank you to the Broadsheet team and Page Rockwell!

You can get a site pass and read Salon.com...just watch the ad and help them pay the bills.

Oh, and Herbsistah may want to check there for a bitch’s thoughts on Madonna and her recent adoption. Note…and I hesitate to write this, but I think this shit needs to be clarified for some newer readers…


This bitch does not have a problem with cross racial adoption. Some people do...I don't. Chil’ren deserve loving homes…’nuff said…and a bitch is on record more than once about that. Same sex, cross racial, single parenting…it’s all good as long as there is a foundation of love and a respect for culture.

Madonna’s adoption strikes me as another kind of thing.

It disturbs me…the use of celebrity and wealth to bend rules, the fact that this child’s father gave up custody because he couldn’t afford to raise his son after the mother died…all of it disturbs.

I find her defense almost more disturbing. She's granted him the opportunity to live a life of luxury...a better life...she saved him, so you just hush.

Hmmm…where have I heard that before?

Oh yes! That’s the language of conquest and conversion for the "good" of the conquered and converted. History is lousy with good intentions gone bad and privilege run amuck. Shit, havn't you seen The Mission (wink)?

What I hear is in her defense is that it’s okay to skirt the law, impose religious requirements on a “humanitarian” donation (and this bitch could give a shit if Catholics do it too...I'm no Catholic) and buy an African baby…as long as you pay an impressive premium and are offering a life of money.

Or did I get that wrong?

This bitch is singing Billie Holliday...hard.

Them thats got shall get
Them thats not shall lose
So the Bible said and it still is news
Mama may have, papa may have
But God bless the child thats got his own

Thats got his own…

Paws and Reflect!

A certain Jeffrey Ricker and his partner Michael Wallerstein contributed stories that are being published in the soon to be released PAWS AND REFLECT
Exploring the Bond Between Gay Men and Their Dogs by Neil Plakcy and Sharon Sakson (Alyson Books/ November 2006).


PAWS AND REFLECT celebrates the joy, growth, and healing offered to all of us by the dogs in our lives. That’s the kind of celebration that resonates with everyone, regardless of gender or sexual orientation.

A bitch is planning a celebratory event in St. Louis sometime in November (details will be posted soon) and both Jeffrey and Michael have graciously agreed to sign copies of the book!

So, go forth and order PAWS AND REFLECT.

Congrats Jeffrey and Michael!

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Missouri Voter Identification Decision..

Lawd, have mercy!

This bitch has been busy as hell.

This information came through from the Voter Protection Coalition the other day and a bitch thought my fellow Missourians would want to know this shit.

Note - Information about a bitch’s 2006 Election Debauch will be posted soon (wink)…

Today the Missouri Supreme Court issued its decision in Weinschenk v. Missouri, the case challenging the Photo ID requirements contained in SB1014. The Missouri Supreme Court, in a 6-1 opinion, affirmed the decision of Cole County Circuit Court Judge Richard Callahan that the law is unconstitutional. The court held that the law burdened the fundamental right to vote and violated the equal protection provisions of the Missouri Constitution.

You can access the opinion here.

The decision means that registered voters will NOT be required to present one of the four forms of photo ID outlined in SB1014 this November.

Voters will be able to show up at the polls this November and vote upon presenting one of the many types of identification spelled out in Section 115.427 of the Missouri Revised Statutes (including an out-of-state driver's license, university ID, utility bill or bank statement, or personal knowledge of two election judges if the person lacks any ID).

Voters can present any of the following:

(1) Identification issued by the state of Missouri, an agency of the state, or a local election authority of the state
(2) Identification issued by the United States government
(3) Identification issued by an institution of higher education, including a university, college, vocational and technical school, located within the state of Missouri
(4) A copy of a current utility bill, bank statement, government check, paycheck or other government document that contains the name and address of the voter
(5) Driver's license or state identification card issued by another state
(6) Other identification approved by the secretary of state under rules promulgated pursuant to subsection 3 of this section other identification approved by federal law.

Personal knowledge of the voter by two supervising election judges, one from each major political party, shall be acceptable voter identification upon the completion of a secretary of state-approved affidavit that is signed by both supervisory election judges and the voter that attests to the personal knowledge of the voter by the two supervisory election judges.

Congratulations to everyone who worked on this issue…and thank you.

Now go forth, my fellow citizens, and get your vote on Tuesday November 7th!

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

On tolerance...

In honor of this blog reaching 300,000 visits…and thank you, Homer, for dropping in so often (wink)…a bitch is gonna indulge in a rant.

Why A Bitch Rejects the School of Tolerance.

I am...this bitch is…not by mistake or misfortune, but by grace.

I don’t want tolerance.



Give it to me, baby!

But tolerance?

You…out of the kindness of your whatever…overlooking my public displays of culture, race, gender, sexual orientation, strong language (wink), “ethnic” hair/complexion/clothing/phrases/ways or any other damned thing that is a part of me?

That this bitch can do without.

Thanks, but no thanks…I’d hate to have you fake it.

And let’s keep it real…tolerance, as it is practiced in American society today, is faking acceptance, masking disdain, pretending not to be put out even though you are.

People tolerate a stench...a stink…something offensive, but not so much so that one is unable to suffer through and dish about later.

They withstand...with grit and determination...they extend charity and lenience.

Tolerance assumes intolerance…that the person tolerating has the ability to reject and is making the choice to “put up with” something.

Tolerance whispers of the ethnocentric hope that the other will see the error of their ways and conform…one only has to wait long enough…one only has to practice tolerance for the shit others do.

No, I don’t need your tolerance.

I prefer that you set it aside...

…shove it out of the way…and reveal the path to respect.

Because I am.

This bitch is.

Not by mistake or misfortune, but by grace.

For Liz…A bitch’s Meatloaf recipe (sort of)…

A certain Liz requested a bitch’s meatloaf recipe.

Note - this has also been posted at Turdmania.

I should warn you that I'm from the old school of cooking, which means that this bitch hasn’t written this recipe down and doesn’t measure a damned thing before tossing shit into a bowl and getting my mix on (wink).

However, I’m pretty sure this is what I did yesterday.

A bitch’s Meatloaf Recipe (sort of)…
1 pound ground beef (lean)
Bread crumbs – from 1/2 a cup to 1 cup…depends, but a bitch likes more rather than less crumbs in my mix.
1 egg
1/4 cup milk (a bitch uses 1% organic milk, because my ass ADORES it)
1 cup Chunky salsa…trust a bitch (mild, medium or hot depends on you)
A smidge of onion salt (unsure of a smidge…go with a pinch)
A smidge of garlic salt

Mix with hands (roll up your sleeves, dive the hell in and work out some stress!!). Pause and review...add more bread crumbs if it looks overly liquidish. Mixture should be moldable not pourable.

Toss into pan and mold to fit…umm, well your notion of a loaf. Put into oven pre-heated to 375 and bake for 1 hour.

Top with more salsa and serve with mashed ‘taters.

Trust a bitch…this meatloaf is a party in your mouth!

Monday, October 16, 2006

Rain-based feastitude...

This is my kind of weather, chil’ren.


Oh, come on!

The steady rain…the overcast sky...the crisp bite in the air…shit, a bitch adores this.

Okay, I’ll admit that driving in it works the hell out of my nerves…but this bitch plans to enjoy the fall precipitation once my ass gets home!

A bitch’s evening of fall rain-based feastitude featuring Eyes on the Prize.

The Menu…
ABB’s Lick the Plate Clean Meatloaf
Mashed ‘taters with butter
Broccoli (a bitch adores broccoli)…oh, and more butter


A cocktail of ice followed by vodka followed by grape cran (yum)

The Attire…
My AngryBlackBitch long sleeve shirt (wink)
New beyond soft comfy pajama pants
Socks (shit, a bitch’s feet get cold)
And my slippers

The Additionals…
My couch-based area
Blanket (no, not the MJ kind…the cotton kind)
One Betsey the sorta-Beagle in full snooze (usually achieved by 8:30pm).

The Viewage…
Eyes on the Prize airing on American Experience on PBS tonight!

Happiness and joy…

Ahhh, Monday!

Happy Monday, y’all!

C-Money and this bitch spent Saturday shopping for eyeglasses (a bitch can’t stand shopping for clothes…or bras…but distinctive eyeglasses are an absolute joy to search for). We hit several stores and this bitch found a two for one sale at D.O.C. to die for!

In five to ten days a bitch will debut new pair number one.

Pair number two is beyond funktified and may have to make its debut at the HRC Gala spectacular November 4th.

Decisions, decisions!


Debuting new eyewear is the adult version of new school clothes for this bitch (wink).

Moving forward…

This morning a bitch went about my morning ritual of coffee, Claritin, CNN Headline News and the network sorta-news. I’m slow in the morning and the rain didn’t help, so my ass let the commercials play rather than channel switch. The political commercials were out in force, but there’s a new kid on the block trying to frame the Amendment 2 debate.

Note – Amendment 2 is Missouri’s Stem Cell Ballot Thang. A Yes vote supports access to cures resulting from stem cell research.

So, the anti-Amendment 2 camp has finally gathered enough money to buy some television time and…well, let’s just say it was worthy of a remind this morning.

Clearly the anti-Amendment 2 folks feel that the Gawd Hates Clones and Vote for 2 = A Ticket to Hell ads may not work well in St. Louis, because the commercial I saw this morning took a different angle.

A prim and proper middle aged woman is sitting on an old school sofa in a HUGE and elegant living room. A young woman is exiting the room and going upstairs (you can barely see the stairs through the MASSIVE entryway that affords a good look at the equally large foyer and dining room beyond.

The lady on the sofa bids her daughter a good night and turns to the camera. With a sob trembling in her voice she says something like…

Blah needed money for college, so she donated her eggs (gasp). The surgery was PAINFUL and they gave her PAINFUL injections too! And now SOB she may not be able to have children! SOB once more.

Then it switched to that red copy on black screen shit that reminds this bitch of The Rocky Horror Picture Show (wink) and a creepy YOU’RE GOING TO HELL, SINNER voice over....

If Amendment 2 passes there will be a greater demand for eggs to satisfy the demand for human clones to work in the data mines!


Okay, a bitch added that shit about human clones and data mines.

And it ended with…

Who will protect our daughters?


If I follow this argument, shouldn’t all egg harvesting be banned? Or is it only egg harvesting in a world where stem cell research is legal?

Or are the anti-2 folks only concerned about egg harvesting from one woman for the benefit of another?



What a minute!

Is that bullshit?

For the love of all that is holy!

Amendment 2 bans cloning….isn’t about cloning…has nothing to do with cloning…and will not encourage cloning.

Amendment 2 is needed because of the same crazy assed shits who came up with that fucked up commercial want to ban any and all stem cell research...and any medical treatments resulting from stem cell research in the state of Missouri.


And why the fuck was that women’s daughter broke anyway? Shit, Mrs. Thang was sitting in a motherfucking mansion, sipping tea out of china with her narrow ass nestled on Ethan Allen!

Refinance, heifer, and toss that child a bone!


Has it come to this?

Do they now have to air television ads all but declaring that the devil is loose in Salem…ummm, err...Missouri and he is hunting your daughters in the dead of night so he can make them write their name in his book and then...oh fuck it, you've seen the play...cough...do they?


Has it gone there?

Or can we engage in a debate of the facts?

Whoops, a bitch forgot...this is Missouri.


Friday, October 13, 2006

October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month

October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month

I have seen too many battered faces.

I have seen too many children with eyes full of fear, confusion and pain.

I have seen chaos, brutality and abuse.

And I have seen hope, healing and empowerment.

I would like to take this opportunity to acknowledge and thank those who work to end violence in our communities. Thank you to the advocates, activists, counselors, social workers and law enforcement professionals and thank you to the volunteers.

If you are or think you may be the victim of domestic violence, contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

The Hotline is staffed 24 hours a day by trained counselors who can provide crisis assistance and information about shelters, legal advocacy, health care centers, and counseling.

For more information, view the Feminist Majority Foundation’s List of Internet Resources.

In St. Louis city and county, Women’s Support and Family Services is a fantabulous resource. Since 1976, WSFS has helped thousands of women and teens break the cycle of violence.

The Crisis Line is available 24 hours a day 314-531-2003.

For more information about Women’s Support and Family Services check out this link.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Hearing the music play...

A bitch has been watching the news of the nuclearization of North Korea.

No use permitting soem prophet of doom

That shit has really been weighing on a bitch’s nerves!

To wipe every smile away.

And those news reports about how North Korea is probably fucking those tests up aren’t helping at all.

Come hear the music play.

Doesn’t anyone realize that fucking up on a nuclear scale is fucking up big time?

Life is a Cabaret, old chum,

Shit, if they get it wrong what the hell does that look like?

Come to the Cabaret!

A bitch is having visions of glow in the dark Afros and radiation poisoning!

Start by admitting

From cradle to tomb

Then C-Money said some shit last night that put this drama in perspective...

Isn't that long a stay.

...something about how fretting and stressing isn’t working the problem or living.

Life is a Cabaret, old chum,

Which put the situation into focus.

Only a Cabaret, old chum,

And reminded this bitch of Cabaret!

And I love a Cabaret!


Thanks C-Money…


Let’s jump right on in, shall we?

Since the Foley scandal broke, a bitch has read a ton of articles and reports stating that Republicans are in trouble. Poll upon poll has been taken and the results have been dissected to the motherfucking bone.

But this bitch is a cautious bitch (wink)…and a lot can happen between now and November 7th.

Then a bitch read this shit regarding a statement by Representative Christopher Shays and…well, even my ass has to admit that this speaks volumes to the chaos swirling within the GOP.

Hey, cool it on Speaker Hassert…’cause no one died?

For the love of all that is sanctified and judgmental, is your base supposed to overlook the leadership tolerating years of sexual harassment and possible sexual abuse…because no one died?

That request shouts desperation on a Nixonian scale.

Hmmm...come to think of it, diving at Chappaquiddick is rather Nixonian. Particularly since Foley Gate, much like Watergate, was avoidable on a MASSIVE fucking scale and stinks of a willfully unapologetic abuse of power in the quest for even more power.

Come on now, y’all…let’s keep it real. Everyone knows that the Evangelical base would have orgasmed if they'd taken Foley out for being gay. Why plant field after field of fear based hate…water and nurture it with care and attention…only to allow it to wither on the vine in your time of need?

A bitch is beyond confused by protests that the leadership feared being seen as homophobic. Foley could have…and in the world of politics should have…been fed to the wolves during the CIA leak scandal or Abu Ghraib or pick a scandal from the last 6 years. Imagine the fantastical distraction that purge would have provided. Or how about when that dude from the Department of Homeland Security was caught using his computer for pedophilic purposes? Foley could have been addressed then and made the GOP look vigilant and shit!

Why wasn’t he?

Why didn’t they?

Who benefited from this mess and how?

Mr. Shays, this isn’t about Democratic vice.

This is about hypocrisy.

This is about negligence.


But a lot can happen in a few weeks. Excuses can be made…reasons can be given…and voters can find a way to cover up the stink for one more dive into the pool of rancidity.

Shit, no one’s talking about the issues.

The 150,000 Missourians who lost healthcare under Republican leadership…those hard working value voters who took one for the team are the ones being asked to hold their nose, close their eyes and dive.

Oh fuck it, no one died.

The thousands of Missourians who send their chil’ren to dilapidated schools full of substandard materials…who struggle to find a basic education in the bureaucracy of No Child Left Behind…those value voters are the ones being asked to turn a blind eye to politically sanctioned predatory behavior.

But hey, no one died!

Those average middle class workers who carry the majority of the tax burden despite all the lip service about tax cuts…those citizens who worry and fret about their elderly relatives and who are forced to question their ability to balance the needs of their chil’ren with the needs of their parents…those voters who stagger under the burden of unmovable debt because they haven’t seen a pay increase in forever and a day…who have sacrificed the dream of a college education for one bloody month without the phone ringing from collection calls…those are the people who are being asked to shut up and give the GOP another shot at fucking it all up worse than before.

Oh hush, didn’t you hear him say no one died?

The arrogance of that statement boggles my mind and the continued inability of the majority to grasp what has happened, what it means and how it should be addressed indeed harkens to the days of the grand Nixonian delusion that was Watergate.

I had no idea…I’ve fired those responsible…I’m not a crook…and hey, no one died.


Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Thank you, Advocate Readers!

A bitch would like to thank the readers of The Advocate for voting AngryBlackBitch one of your Top 10 favorite blogs.

I'd cry, but a bitch can't have my mascara running all down my face.

Lawd, have mercy!

Seriously, this bitch's Afro is all a'tingle (wink).

Thank you and have a fantabulous National Coming Out Day, y'all!

By request - That Hair Thang...

My beloved sister, C-Money, and this bitch were sharing a brief chat over coffee this morning and the subject of hair came up…as it often does…and C-Money called me out for not having done a “hair post”.

Black women and our hair is a topic infused with emotion and tons of product (wink). I swear a bitch did post briefly about hair after a sister-girl sassy bob tossing incident at Sweetie Pie’s.



For C-Money – That Hair Thang…
If this bitch had a dollar for every time someone has asked me why so and so did “that” to her hair…is it true that black women don’t wash their hair…can I touch your hair (for the record, NO)…and I wish I could do that with my hair, I’d be one rich bitch.

Black hair is a cultural representation…a political statement…a womanist, feminist, protest thang...defiant...obedient…and sometimes it’s just hair.

I can’t speak for everyone, but this bitch came into myself through a hair journey. My girlfriends sought a room of their own…I searched for hair of my own. Hair as the perfect unification of me…black womanblack woman….black and woman.

As a child my hair was not my own. My mother owned it. She washed it, greased it and “made it presentable” weekly by straightening it with a hot comb. The hot comb represented just how dedicated my mother was to straightening the black out of my hair. She turned on the gas range…put the metal comb in the fire…let it heat up until it was red with it…set it aside to cool slightly…sectioned out my freshly washed giant afro…applied grease…and then ran the comb through my hair sending up a distinctive stink known to anyone who has ever had their hair straightened that way.

The process was repeated until the entire head was straight.

I vividly recall being captivated by my hair immediately following.

“I’ve got white girl hair!” I thought. White girl hair being “good” and the hair I was born with being “bad”.

My mother then braided that shit, which I think is worthy of note. She could have braided the afro, but even in braid form my afro needed to be tamed.



When I was 12 my mother gave me my first relaxer.

My best friend was preparing for her Bat Mitzvah and a bitch was jealous as hell. She went on and on about it and then asked me if my family had anything like a Bat Mitzvah. Desperately I searched for a good lie (fuck it) and came up with a fantastical description of the relaxer as a traditional black rite of passage.

Well, the first relaxer is an event. I think I described it along the lines of virgin Afro hair being transformed by the lye gods into diva-divine grown-up straightness.

Shit, a bitch had a hyper-developed imagination.

So, I received my first relaxer. As tears of pain ran down my face from the chemical burns this bitch was thrilled. Finally! Finally, my hair was liberated from the comb and that coveted white girl look was permanent…sort of. Every four weeks a bitch “touched up” the new growth and kept the afro contained.

When I was 16 years old, a bitch was accepted at Simon’s Rock College in the Berkshires. My first thought was Oh shit. The second thought that raced through my mind was where the fuck am I going to get my hair done? Simon’s Rock is an early college of 300 students nestled in a small New England town. True, DuBois was born there but Great Barrington is not known for having a large black population.

The black women found each other the first day.

“Where the fuck are we going to get our hair done?” was a fantabulous ice breaker. And so was the act itself. We took over a dorm room with relaxer kits everywhere and stank up the floor…laughing and talking trash…and bonding in a way our fellow students envied.

After my freshman year, a bitch transferred and was close enough to Boston to consider going to a shop for my relaxer but my ass was broke in that hand to mouth student way that simply didn’t allow for it. Again, the sisters found each other and the kits materialized.

But somewhere along the path something about my hair made me uncomfortable. I no longer wanted white girl hair, but was terrified by what MY hair meant. How would I wear it? What would I do to take care of it? Would I be able to get a job with it?

A bitch cut it all off instead. Pixified, a bitch was held captive to the relaxer even more than before! Shit, no one told my ass short hair was hard to maintain.


College came to an end…a job was obtained…and the pixie grew out into a sassy anchorish bob. You know what I mean, that black woman as news anchor bob?

Yeah, that shit!

Years passed by. A bitch found out I had fibroids and went on hormones that jacked my hair up and dried it out. My stylist (yeah, finally got one) and I fretted and worried as it broke off and shed. And the ladies in the shop, both customers and stylists, were fantabulous. Every four weeks I spent an evening with my emotional cheering squad of 5 sisters and it was exactly what a bitch needed when I needed it.

The shop was just like the dorm room. Sisters talking shit and giving advice while relaxer cream was applied…hair was rinsed and then neutralized…conditioners were handled to be followed by set and dry or dry and style.

It takes a couple of hours from start to finish…sometimes four hours depending on what you’re having done. Hours to bond...to cry…to rant and share and laugh…oh, and to eat dinner from that restaurant around the corner with the yummified wings.

I had surgery and Enid (my fibroids) was killed and everything shifted. A bitch shifted it…re-evaluated everything. Shit, signing a release that states in black ink on white paper that I may die during surgery was a life changing kind of thing.

A bitch moved back home…because I wanted to and needed to be near my family.

I got a job my ass wanted to go to Monday through Friday…because I wanted and needed to.

And this bitch cut out the relaxer and grew out the ‘fro…because it was time, it was right for me and it was what I both wanted and needed to do.

My hair…black hair…black woman…black and woman...me and mine.

Into the shop, a cut followed by a shape...followed by wash, conditioner and moisturization.



I like to think my hair thang is a coming of age 26 years in the making…

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

By request, comments...

A certain Mandy in New Mexico wanted some clarification on the comment system. Just after reading her e-mail, a bitch received what I like to call a Knave Bomb…which was too funny because Knave Bombs are why I monitor my comments!

What are the odds?


A bitch gets all kinds of crazy comments. I do not only post the comments that agree with me (Lawd, just read some of the archives...mercy!).

But a bitch does reject the following…

Rovian comments…
Comments, usually anonymous, which have nothing to do with the topic and are laced with knee-jerk inspiring tired ass rhetoric. The goal is to get a reaction and take a bitch off message.

Nice try and thanks for the effort...

...but this bitch will not be taken off message.

Knavish attempts at public displays of bigotry…
I’ve yet to figure out exactly who these motherfuckers are trying to convince and a bitch really could give a shit. On April Fools Day I’m tempted to agree with them just to fuck their groove up (wink). Oh never mind…give some assholes a moment of joy and you’ll hurt their fucking feelings.

It’s a big world out there, young knaves!

Go forth…find a dark deep cave…and claim it.

Calls for violence
Non-violence may be a work in progress for a bitch…and some days it’s a real struggle…but a bitch isn’t going to go to jail because one of y’all lost your shit up in my comment area!

Classic Drunk off your ass bullshit…
Friends don’t let friends comment while under the influence.

Other than those all are welcome!

Thanks for asking Miss Mandy...

Remembering Tamara Dobson...

Tamara Dobson died Monday of complications from pneumonia and multiple sclerosis at the age of 59.

Ms. Dobson was known for her film roles as Cleopatra Jones.

Rest in peace, sister....

Great expectations...

A bitch’s friends are assisting me in my quest to sample the Smarties of the world. That Farm Girl hooked a bitch up with South African Smartie-based goodness! Almost simultaneously a certain Ryan of the damn can that man can cook Ryan’s brought a bitch a multitude of Irish Smarties!

This bitch is planning to incorporate Smarties into my Halloween costume theme…mayhap I’ll post a picture (wink).

Thanks to you both!

Congratulations go to Joe Miller for an enjoyable reading from his book Cross-X at The Big Read in Clayton over the weekend. Joe, two of the students featured and the debate coach were present.


Jumping right in full of Smartie-based goodness…

Great Expectations...
Some interesting shit came up in the question and answer section of the Cross-X reading Saturday. The issue of expectations and how students respond to them struck very close to home.

A bitch has written before about my experiences in grade school…the bullying, the taunting and the atmosphere of fear that existed for me as the one black kid in a class. People have asked me where my teachers were…and I had to laugh at the assumption that they weren’t standing right there the whole time.

Talk about great expectations (wink).

My teachers were silent observers…never attempting to stop the abuse from my peers…never challenging my lack of focus or the half assed efforts of a depressed child. Their expectations of a bitch were clear…be quiet, talk softly, don’t cause a fuss and you will be rewarded with average marks.

Write within the margins…keep it neat and precise…and no one will give a shit what you write about or if it makes sense.

By the time a bitch was in 2nd grade my ass was well trained and unable to read. I sat in the back of class…never made a fuss…stayed out of the bathroom because that’s where my peers preferred to beat me…ate alone and quickly…walked with my eyes down and averted. A bitch was broken…taken down to meet the expectations of others and forever putting others at ease.

A standardized test uncovered my deception. Trust that my parent’s were disgusted…they had different expectations...and they shared those with me in no uncertain terms.

I vividly recall the disappointment on my father’s face…the shocked disgust on my mother’s.

I’ll never forget how good it made me feel.

Yeah, I said good. To have someone expect more of me, to have them instantly respond that I was better than that and to hear those great expectations and know that they applied to me.

My mother proceeded to teach me to read in just under 2 weeks…under threat of violence and with a lot of yelling (wink). She then presented me to my 2nd grade teacher and I read from Little House on the Prairie.

In that moment this bitch defied my teacher’s expectations, met my parent’s and developed some of my own.

It was much like the scene from Cross-X in the moment when the debate team finally won it all.


As a volunteer, a bitch has witnessed the damage of low expectations and the power of great expectations. Through my service, I have had to challenge the origin of both…the assumption that poor urban youth will only go so far and my expectation that positive reinforcement will triumph over a system set up to inspire apathy and discourage ambition.

Great expectations say a lot about how an individual and community view the world.

Maybe it’s time to peal away that scab covering those low expectations and see what they say about us too…

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Pub Def on Meet the Press!

Ooooohhhh shit!

Fellow St. Louis blogger, Pub Def...and the Bitch Squad's favorite Missouri political news blog...was featured as a source BIG TIME on Meet the Press this morning!

Go on with your bad self, Pub Def!


Saturday, October 07, 2006


This bitch was moving slow as hell yesterday!


Such is the penalty for debauch on a school night...and Lawd knows my ass has paid that sin tax before (wink).


A bitch overheard a conversation Thursday night and it inspired some serious reflection. I truly believe that the Divine One connects me with situations to nudge my ass into action…and this was one such moment.

Two women were discussing the trials and tribulations of owning their own business. One was telling the other that she was in the process of a radical overhaul inspired by the realization that her business was not as fulfilling as it should be.

She confessed that she was scared to change things and had been avoiding it for months…miserable in a drama of her own creation.

Her companion responded with…

“A lot of people are afraid of change and a lot of people are limited because of that.”

They moved on to discuss other things…and this bitch moved on to another vodka cran…but that nugget was firmly embedded in my mind.

Living this thing called life conditions us to avoid change…to build on what is rather than what could be.

Haven’t you ever heard that whispering voice that tells you to hesitate…to pause…to consider the consequences and not explore the possibilities?

It wasn’t there when I was a child. Gawd, a bitch used to race up a hill on my bike and soar over the top of it without a care for what was on the other side.

The voice came later…after a couple of tumbles over the handlebars.



This bitch was presented with an opportunity last week and that fucking change resisting whispering voice slid over my consideration of it.

Every time I tried to circle back to what could be it whispered for me to slow down…to fear what’s over that hill…to recall the jarring pain of flipping over the handlebars and crashing into the pavement.

Then I overheard that nugget of truth Thursday night and all I could think was…no.

Not now…not this time…not this bitch.


Which empowers yes…the potential positives are worth a few scars.

So, this bitch is soaring over that hill and catching air in my Afro.

The Divine One works in mysterious ways…

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Ice followed by vodka followed by cran...

A bitch has to go put my party face on and fluff my afro!

A certain local advertising agency is having a birthday party tonight and this bitch heard a rumor about vodka crans with my name on them (wink).


Toodles until tomorrow...

A healthy portion of bitchitude with a side of St. Louis musical history…

This bitch simply must share some fellow blogger’s posts with y’all...

The fantabulous Jeffrey Ricker has some advice for NPR and some serious bitchitude for Paul Weyrich, of the Free Congress Foundation.

Go on with your bad self, Mr. Ricker!

Now that’s what a bitch calls correction…


The Angry Independent explores City of Gabriels: The History of Jazz in St. Louis, from 1895-1973 by Dennis Owsley.

A bitch can’t resist any exploration of my city’s Jazz history…even if it does stop the year this bitch was born.



Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Oh, how the bullshit floweth...

Let’s jump right on in shall we?

Conservative talk show hosts hit the airwaves yesterday to rally their listeners in support of Dennis Hastert as Speaker of the House…oh, and to not abandon the Republican Party in their time of need.

A bitch found it interesting that those same hosts failed to mention concern for the young men victimized by a sexual predator now attempting to pass as a gay man…or their families…or the Page system now under review…or the lack of moral accountability in government today.

But clearly they felt the victim in this scandal is Hastert and the Republican morality.



The conservative radio folks obviously had their talking points down.

“Do you want to loose Congress and any hope of an ideological shift on the Supreme Court? Are you willing to throw it all away?”

This bitch mentally filled in what those hypocritical motherfuckers left unsaid.

Do you want to throw it all away…over this?

Do you, the conservative Evangelical right, want to throw away all that power over a few kids and one "bad apple"?

It’s amazing how disposable those lofty values are in the face of the potential loss of power, money and prestige….and it is so telling, almost like a window has opened up into the soul of the RNC and Lawd is it filthy in there.

The obvious question for all of us is…if they are willing to look the other way on this just to maintain power is there any limit to what they are willing to overlook and rationalize…who they are willing to watch be abused year after year…how far they will take America into that muck, even to the point of drowning this great nation in a sea of hypocritical bullshit.

And the bullshit about Hastert not wanting to appear homophobic fails to pass the smell test. If Foley had been a Democrat his ass would already be in jail, his face would lead every political television commercial (probably with wolves mixed in, ‘cause those assholes love the wolf visual) and Tim Russert would be talking about Hastert 2008.

But instead...well...yeah.


Oh, how the bullshit floweth…

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Did he just say 'trust'?

A quick quizzical…
Two Americans have been awarded the Nobel Prize in physics. Their work proves how galaxies are formed…and is being hailed for moving theory into precise science.

So, did they prove Big Bang or didn’t they?

A bitch wonders if anyone would have the courage to report it if someone actually did prove Big Bang.

That kind of news could spark some serious drama in today’s Evangelical climate.



Did he say trust?
A bitch certainly isn’t one to give Scooter B. advice, but is now a good time to use words like ‘trust’?

I’m just saying!

Shit, a bitch understands that going on the attack is an option during shit storms like the one currently showering Scooter B.'s administration.

But the goal is to distract the masses, not remind them that…well…***cough***...you and yours are not to be trusted.

I mean really…of all the words in the English language to use!


As in trust the words coming out of his mouth?

Or do he mean, trust that his administration will fight on behalf of working families?

Oh, was he talking about accountability and oversight?

He can't be referring to trusting them to avoid the corruption of power, money and the influence it can buy.

Did he say trust?

Sniff…double sniff.

I'm going to trust my nose instead...
Yesterday’s rampage at an Amish school, on top of the assaults and murder recently at a Colorado school, just break my heart and trouble my soul.

The incidents themselves are disturbing…they were each planned in advance, involved heavily armed adult men who were not affiliated with the schools yet specifically targeting girls and young women for assault and murder.

And the ramifications will ripple out into time for years…for ever.

My prayers go out to this community and the families touched by this tragedy.

Monday, October 02, 2006

A bloody shame...

As an adult who volunteers with teens, my reaction to the news of Rep. Foley’s violation of trust, ethics and the law while sexually harassing Congressional Pages was rather harsh.

It still is.

His behavior was the very definition of unacceptable and inappropriate. I'm not a lawyer, but I sincerely hope it was illegal.

I found the transcripts disturbing and would call the posting of them a further violation if that move wasn’t what resulted...finally... in something being done in this matter.

That ABC News accomplished what the leadership in the House seemed unwilling to even initiate…meaning an investigation…is not reason to celebrate.

This whole mess is a bloody shame.

The Page system is a unique opportunity for young adults to serve this country and the political process.

It is not a shopping opportunity for sexual predators.

The United States House of Representatives is the people’s house…my house…and I am disgusted by this mess.

The whirlwind of recent activity by the Leadership of the House only highlights what didn’t happen when the initial allegations were made…demonstrates what should have been done then to prevent the need for what is being done now.

That state of denial must be an epidemic…

And one more thing...in response to this bullshit.

If Hassert didn't know then why the hell didn't he?

I'm sorry but "I was duped" fails to pass the smell test.

If someone approached me with an allegation that another adult was making a child "uncomfortable" I'd make it my business to know the particulars. At the very least, I would pass it on to the authorities.

What I would not do is slap the adult in question on the hand and tell them to go forth...leave the child alone...and sin no more.


How the hell do you tell someone to stop doing something if you haven't investigated what the fuck he may or may not have done?

And don't tell me these people don't know how to run an aggressive investigation...that, without doubt, is absolute bullshit on ice.

Lawd, give me strength...

On the road with Miss Sister Girl Cabrio...

This bitch had a productive weekend.

I journeyed to Ozark country to participate in a strategic planning retreat. Now, anyone who knows this bitch knows that my ass hates to drive long distances. Some of that is based in fear…the rest has to do with despising public restrooms (wink).


I made a promise to myself years ago to confront my fear based avoidances whenever my brain decides to acknowledge one…which is why this bitch hit the highway solo Saturday morning.

Mmmhmmm, just a bitch and her Cabrio.


The drive took me over 3 hours each way (a bitch drives slow as hell and had to stop to purchase apple butter)...and it involved both Highway 70 and 54, which took a bitch and her car through some beautiful hillified parts of Missouri.

A bitch learned a lot about me through this exercise.

Shit a bitch learned about her own self while driving to and from Ozark country...

#1 My nerves are bad as hell and are that fact is only made worse by long distance driving.

#2 The Amish make fucking awesome apple butter!


#3 The Ozarks are beautiful…there is a lot of pollen…and there are a lot of trees…oh, and that lake too.

And finally…

#4 Miss Sister Girl Cabrio gets the shakes when you take her past 60 mph for more than 30 minutes!

The Gumdrop Stage of Grief ...

So many of you have shared condolences and support after the death of my beloved brother Bill from COVID-19. I wish I could thank you indiv...