chicago – Myalogy

Passa Scott & the 3 Lil Top Gang Thugs

zyansaeed615 / February 1, 2017

Hello to you on this first day of Black History Month and the early days of the Apocalypse. Last evening, I sat down to write a love letter to Oprah, and her impact on my young black life, which I intended to finish and publish this morning, until 9:45am. What happened at 9:45 ante meridian, you ask? Good Question, Myalogists. Porangetus Donald Trump held a Black History Month Meeting with all of his colore-, I mean coo-, I mean darki-, I mean black supporters. MAN O MAN, did it not disappoint. With his Negro Bed Wench ‘Rosa by his side, Porangetus basked in the darkness of all HIS people, tho Diamond and Silk were conspicuously absent. They were likely greasing the scalp of the newly revived Frederick Douglass, as he sat on the east lawn pondering exactly what was the hair-like substance atop the heads of the young gals servicing him. And why they were so loud. I digress, Trump was up there just a smiling and laughing with his supporters, who proudly rattled off their names and titles. It was miraculously barftastic. Then it came yall. IT CAME. The moment where my mouth literally dropped open. With the biggest shit eating grin, Darrell Scott, pastor of New Spirit Revival Center and BLACK TRUMP SUPPORTER, introduced himself to as much thunderous applause as 20 self hating negroes can muster. Yall know Passa Scott. He is the negro that got up at the RNC and proved he is 1. a staunch supporter of #alternativefacts and 2. an utter disgrace to his race. His comments this morning at the Black History Month “little breakfast, little get together” showed that he has no current plans to stop being either of those things. Apparently Passa Scott who resides in Ohio, was alternafactually contacted by “some of the top gang thugs in Chicago, for a sit down.” The rest you must see for yourself. President Trump and Darrell Scott on Chicago. pic.twitter.com/z83487FOXJ — Christian P. Bryant (@BryantCP) February 1, 2017 I have questions. First, have you ever heard such fuckshitery? Who hit you up, Darrell? Mad Dog? Huggy Bear? Ozone? Stone? Robert? Chi-raq? Cyclops? Tell us. You say they reached out to you, because they are apparently so concerned about all of the crime committed by themselves and their friends, that they want to have a sit down WITH YOU to talk about lowering it. Can’t they just do that on their own without talking to you? If they agree to lower the body count, then Porangetus will send in additional resources in the form of social programs? WAIT. Did you just tell us that we have to help ourselves before anyone else will help us? “Couple weeks” you will be here in Chicago for the parlay (use that term, when you talk to them, it will solidify your downness.) Isn’t the carnage dire enough for you to come now instead of meeting with Porangetus? They wanna work with him. They believe in him. They didn’t believe in Barack. You know what the lie detector determined about those three statements right? FUCK OUTTA HERE, FAM. Updated: Apparently DOCTOR Scott was a lil loopy from a lack of sleep. He told a local Chicago news outlet that a lack of sleep caused him to tell President Trump that Chicago gangs had offered to “lower the body count.” He said he actually spoke to one former gang member, and not to any gang leaders. ONE Former. NOT TO ANY GANG LEADERS. http://www.fox32chicago.com/news/local/233182412-story FAM DIDNT I TELL YOU OUTTA HERE?

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Myalogy Media: Michael Eric Dyson

zyansaeed615 / January 26, 2017

Hey Guys, yesterday I got a chance to sit down with one of America’s pre-eminent scholars, the Good Reverend Doctor Michael Eric Dyson. We talked bout: his utter dismay at the election of Porangetus Crime in Chicago If BARACKO did enough for black folks Hamilton and I saved my hardest hitting question for last, after learning he dedicated his new book, Tears We Cannot Stop: A Sermon to White America, to The Knowles Ladies, I had to ask…. Lemonade or A Seat at the Table…. Watch him try it!

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Myalogy Media: On Michelle, Girl of the South Side

zyansaeed615 / January 17, 2017

Last week, I made a cryptic Facebook post about being at my alma mater, WHITNEY MOORE YOUNG JUNIOR MAGNET HIGH SCHOOL, bold, all caps. What I didn’t say is WHY is why I was there. On this day, January 17th, the day the universe gave us Michelle LaVaughn Robinson Obama, I’m proud to announce I was there to be interviewed by Natalie Yvonne Moore and WBEZ, as a fellow WY alumna and the legacy of the flyest FLOTUS ever. I was joined by other grads and current students in a roundtable discussion that ran the gamut from her strength, her style, her parenting, her marriage, her career, her public person, her prominence…and that beauty and that BAWDY. You can listen to it here. Play the Morning Shift show and enjoy. One of the hardest questions we were asked, was our favorite Michelle moment. This was mine. What was yours? Hit them comments. Happy Birthday Michelle – thank you for being the example, the standard. We love you and you will always be our first lady.

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Powerful Niggatry

zyansaeed615 / June 29, 2016

We all saw him. His gloriously handsome face, spewing forth sentiments not usually seen on primetime television, and certainly not on a station that has been so destructive to the same people to whom he was so powerfully speaking. I dont mean to overstate the case, but watching him up there briefly made me feel echoes of what I felt when I watched another gloriously handsome black man command the stage on an unseasonably warm November night in Chicago, with his equally beautiful black family, primed to occupy a supreme position of power. Pride. Pure unadulterated pride. But y’all saw Jesse. All the think pieces done been thought; all the videos of the acceptance speech been shared and reposted – WE SAW YOU FACEBOOK AND YOUR FUCKT ASS CENSORSHIP ATTEMPTS and “woke bae” was typed ad nauseum. The intersphere will inevitably move on to the next fauxtroversey or black man in a wig skit, but NOT before doing the one thing y’all and y’alls cousins are so apt, so eager, so ready to do. Tear him down. Cuz thats what niggas do. Three things pissed me the hell off yesterday. They revolved around the following trite played out ass themes. He talkin bout white folks killing us, but not us killing us. Y’all only give a fuck cuz he light skinned/handsome. No one watches BET. Powerful niggatry at its best. Sigh. He talkin bout white folks killing us, but not us killing us. An old negroidian woman, who fancies herself a journalist and beloved fixture here in Chicago (and I suppose to people who still have 8 track players, she is indeed a beloved person) was the latest perpertrator of this fuckshit ass line of thinking, which she felt the need to share on Facebook. This man was talking about the oppressors of black folks, who have traditionally been the US government and its enforcement units, killing us and getting away with it. And here she come in all her “im old, but Im hip, hey sistagirl, what it do brothaman” glory, attempting to be radical, but revealing herself to be nothing but an Auntie Ruckus. She had so many lil cousin Ruckuses on the thread “amen-ing” her bullshit too, yall. I wish I could say I was shocked, but I wasn’t. Anytime anyone has ANYTHING to say about one of us getting shot down in the streets like a rabid dog, or suspiciously killing ourselves in a jail cell, some nigger will stand up and talk bout how we kill ourselves so how can we expect others not to kill us. Really? Is that really what you want to say? Does your dumb ass really not understand the difference in murder by cop and crime? BLM and Stop the Violence – these are two separate issues. How are you walking around without a helmet when you are unable to process the difference in these movements? They can and should co-exist, but they should NOT be compared. And lets be really really really real. Even if peace was achieved in every war torn city across this country and world, the oppressors would still be killing us, cuz they were killing us on the got damn Amistad, when we aint even know what a fucking gun was, so stop with the respectability bullshit. This person then went on to tell us, what regular folks aint doing in the hood while we applauding Jesse and his sentiments. Well ma’am. Just like a broke clock, you are wrong a 1,438 times a day. Alpha’s walking thru the hood. MASK. 10K Fearless. Organizations comprised of regular everyday working folks who wanna do better and effect change. The action this woman offered as proof of her concern, activism and righteousness? She doesnt kill people, which allows them to make it home to their families everynight. Well guess what dumb ass? Most of us are doing the same thing you are doing, including Jesse, so maybe y’all got more in common than your dumb ass thinks. Yeah, I said it! DISCLAIMER: That is her wack ass catchphrase and not mine…Im way too cool for that. Also this person has a pic of another Jesse as her FB cover photo; Mr. Jackson if ya old, uncool, ruckusy and think Stella Foster is a real journalist as opposed to simply being the assistant to a real journalist who died, upon which she assumed his position cuz she happened to be standing there and probs knows where some bodies are buried. Also, she is no longer in that position. Apparently she retired to give herself more time to write the shit she used to write in her column, on Facebook, FOR FREE. Y’all only give a fuck cuz he light skinned/handsome. Jesus H. Christ. Jesse Williams is a beautiful man. I dont know him, but it SEEMS his inside matches his outside. Many people just found out bout “woke bae” Sunday night, but bae been woke waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay before that. If you were woke and your third eye wasnt focused on Scandal and the evolution of the sidepiece, you would know that. But I’m struggling with why his level of attractiveness is being used as a point of detraction. If he stood up on that stage looking like whoshotjohn, and said the shit he said, I’m willing to bet the reaction would have been the same. Kendrick Lamar isn’t an obvious sex symbol – he dont look shit like Woke Bae but didn’t your heart beat proudly at the sight of this? and then this? Thought so, so miss me with that handsome bullshit. And while I’m angry, as if I exist in any other state, what the fuck is you people’s problem with light skinned black folks? Seriously. WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS. YOUR. PROBLEM. WITH. LIGHT. SKINNED. BLACK. FOLKS. We aint legit? Only value we have is how light we are? Nothing we say or feel is important because our ancestors were

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Just Cuz You Got Miseducated…..

zyansaeed615 / May 10, 2016

I don’t really care about Nas. Wu-Tang neither. HATE KRS-ONE. Hate him. I stopped being friends with a person that MADE me watch The Matrix more than one time. Game of Thrones mania escapes me. Does anything different actually happen on the Walking Dead – aside from Run, Kill, Survive, Get eaten? So Chipotle IS worth getting sick and possibly dying for? Mkkkkkay. A lot of shit people think is great; I just don’t really care about or find it horrible. But, one of my closest friends in the world is a SUPER NAS fan, SUPER. We spent many workdays in his office discussing the GOAT’s identity. There is an obvious answer, but I don’t feel like fucking any of you up right now, so, I’m gonna digress. Again, my boy was a Nas fan, and had been a really great friend to me, so when his birthday rolled around and Nas was gonna be in town, there was only one thing to do. Excitedly (I love buying gifts/surprising folks) I went to the Ticketmaster……and saw who was gonna be there with him: The Artist Formerly Known as “This Chick is Doper than Ladybug.” Lboogie what dey call her. I was not pleased. I’m not gonna act like Lauryn changed my life in any MAJOR way. I came of age a little before her time and Mary had already laid claim to my maturation. Blunted on Reality and The Score were really dope albums. “Some Seek Stardom” WAS MY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT. Rewound, yes kids, the hell out that tape at the conclusion of that song. She was a beautiful chick, talented beyond measure, holding her own with the fellas. (HEY MIRROR!) Then she dropped that got danged album, that gorgeous lush masterpiece. I aint care she told yall to stop wearing weaves. But I did care that her and Mary tore some wack ass dude to shreds. And that she had a joy in her life called Zion. And that she wanted to tell him to let her be patient and to let her be kind and to make her unselfish without her being blind. I cared. Lawd, did I care. I even cared about the follow up – 20 tracks of the same song. Cried like a baby to that album. Why? I dunno. Probs cuz she was crying thru the entire thing. Sadly, it was pretty much all downhill from there. Missed performances, erratic appearances, jail, NO MUSIC, lawsuits, chick started being late for everydamnthing she could. Still I bought the tickets for the concert and hoped against hope – slightly excited at the prospect of seeing them perform “If I Ruled the World”. NAS came on – ripped it (I guess, my friend looked happy) – he did sing his songs with Amy Winehouse, which was enough for me. He performed first, which I’m guessing he was not planning to do, being the headliner and all, but….yall know why. Wrapped up his tight lil set and took his leave. 3 days later, she emerged, clearly not herself, singing songs foreign to our ears, and from the looks on the confused faces of her background singers, foreign to their ears as well. 10 minutes later, we left. As we walked down the street, he said to me “I wished she sang ‘Ex-Factor.’ It broke my heart to tell him that she did. It was just unrecognizable. Never again. NOT EVER will I pay to see her. A free concert would be a tough sell for me. So when Amissah, hit me so full of life and asked “Lauryn? Ravinia?” I couldn’t curse her ass out quick enough for asking me such a dumb ass question. And bout a month later, Lauryn proved me right. She kept fans waiting in Atlanta over two hours, to watch her “perform” after spending their hard earned money on Groupon tickets to see her NOW wack ass. (click the link. I aint lying. You can also find lil Kim tickets there. Okay, now I’m lying.). I heard the performance was dope, but short due to time restrictions at the outdoor venue. A video posted on social media saw a fan taking her to task about her lateness. She told him her driver got lost. He said “bitch, you were at the 4pm sound check. I heard you. I live across the street. Fuck you.” I made up part of that, but that’s what he really wanted to say. Or that’s what I would have wanted to say. The sound check and him living across the street is for true. Atlanta is as big as your thumbnail and if you live mentally or physically in 2016, which is questionable about her, and have GPS, it’s even smaller. You can’t get lost. People were admittedly outraged and took their voices to the world wide web, which prompted her to respond in kind. From Ms. Hill’s Facebook: “I don’t show up late to shows because I don’t care. (Seems that way.) And I have nothing but Love and respect for my fans. (This is a lie. ‘Memba the House of Blues in Chicago? You don’t owe us anything. ‘Memba, Lauryn. Guess we should be thankful and grateful you were only 1.5 hours late that time.) The challenge is aligning my energy with the time, taking something that isn’t easily classified or contained, and trying to make it available for others.” (WAIT, JUST A FUCKIN MINUTE) You telling me, I, who must work for my money, need to extend patience to you for you to align your energies in order for you to appear somewhere you charged me my aforementioned money to see you? How bout dis? Wait til your on/off switch is set to on. Get open, rested, do whatever you need to do to feel “sensitive and liberated” then do a free concert in the park and promote it on Facebook. Don’t sell tickets and waste my time and money, muthafucka. I’m over being miseducated by you.

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Its a Bird, Its a Plane, Its SUPER TUESDAY!

zyansaeed615 / March 16, 2016

Editors Note: I’ve had to edit this post as some horrid nosey people at my job have sadly discovered my blog. And since I need to work, I’d rather edit, than have to defend my work, at least until I dont have to work. Thanks. Whaddup dudes and dudettes? Couple questions. Do you love news? Do you love politics? Do you love elections? Have you ever wondered what goes on in a newsroom? Have you ever wondered what goes on in a newsroom on election night? Yep? COOL, cuz Im bout to tells ya. NO? Well, sit next to me and partake of this tall glass of Shut The Fuck Up and be quiet while I talk to the intelligent WOKE people. As some of you know, I work for a local news operation, which shall not be named EVER on this blog and who does not share nor endorse my views. Stick a pin in that info as you will need it as you move forward in the sharing of my life. 3pm: I arrive. A hush falls over my co-workers as the most beautiful black woman they have ever seen with an 8 week old dandruff laden crochet job and incredibly gorgeous Jesus delivered brows and eyelashes enters the room. 3:15pm: Nick’s ass walks up to me, doesnt say hello and asks if I know what time the pizza is arriving. I passively aggressively dismiss him in a way that has him apologizing to me for the rest of the night. NOTE: FOOD IS THE MOST IMPORTANT COMMODITY IN A NEWSROOM. Cameras go out? Cool. Printers down, no worries. Anchors on air drunk? We can handle that! Pizza’s gonna be late. PACK IT UP! We out this bitch. 4pm: Surfing the web to see what idiots and geniuses are posting on The Book, which is where I live. So many ‘I voted’ receipts. So many. So many pontificators. So many. So many political analysts that dont know that today is a primary day. Nothing except electoral votes will be won. Pretty sure as of this writing some of them think Donald Trump became president last night. 4:30pm – eternity: meeting with <REDACTED>, who explains she wants me to log speeches along with updating poll numbers and put out various fires that may arise. She took the time to explain what logging means, as I did not go to school for 12 years for a MASS MEDIA ARTS degree, apparently. AND does my favorite thing, which is to explain a simple ass task, repeatedly using different words and phrases, to explain the same damn point. 5:00pm: meeting with Web Producer who takes 3 minutes to explain a way more difficult task, with the assumption that we can read the notes and make it work. ME LIKE WEB PRODUCER. WEB PRODUCER SMART. WEB PRODUCER THINK ME SMART. 5:15pm: Nick is happy, as there is no longer a need to worry about when the food will arrive. 6:00pm: The cesspool known as Florida aka My mothers birthplace aka Stand ya groundland (not linking to that bitch ass) aka Marissa Alexander’s captor aka Hanging Chad Avenue aka the place that aint shit but rednecks cept the SoBe (shouts out to Cocaine Biceps), has closed the polls. It was only about 1% in at the time, but it was already a fucking landslide. Dude won and I believe Monica’s dip’s wife won as well. Marco Rubio figured out what the rest of us knew from the start….his beginning was his end. OUTTA THERE. Campaign Suspended. (suspended…thats cute) The numbers provided by the Associated Press (AP), which we were using to supply our viewers with info, were rapidly changing. So much so, it was hard to constantly update. Me and my compadre in arms, Nora, looked alot like this: The rest of the states slowly trickled in. Missouri, Ohio, That place, That other place, The place over there, that spot and home sweet home, Illinois, which lets be honest is all I really gave a fuck about and one race in particular. 7:45 Polls been closed for about an hour at this point, except for Kendall County, which predictably ran out of Democratic Ballots. PAUSE: while we are at this point in the story, why are separate ballots needed? Just list all that shit on one page, trust that I can read and comprehend simple things unlike my <REDACTED> believes and lets stop killing extra trees, K? UNPAUSE. Our political editor started screaming so loudly that the walls shook. He was raving about how The Bern got a court order to keep the polls open an extra hour due to the fuckery!!!!!! I thought we were going to perform CPR on him if he yelled ONE more time. 8:00pm The race being watched round the world or at least Cook County Illinois: The Foxx vs Ol Girl. At first look, I almost started footworking, which is amazing, cuz I dont dance and Im old, cuz in the race for Cook County States Attorney, Kim Foxx, the (Black) peoples champ was doing to Ol Girl what The Gimp did to Ving Rhames. GLORY!!!! But wait, inexplicably, her numbers are dropping. WHAT IN THE ENTIRE EFF? The phones started ringing off the hook. SOMEONE GET AP (thats associated press incase your reefah addled brain doesnt remember that from earlier in the post) on the phone!!! AP gets on the phone and tells us something is screwy and to sit tight. 8:15pm: More pizza. Another Pop. Bathrooom break. Give manfriend the silent treatment, while being on the phone with him, then refuse a ride home. (will it ever end?) 8:20pm: Someone yells, Mya! Will you log Donald Trumps speech? He’s on! WAIT JUST A GOT DAMN MINUTE. First you tell me to be at work at 7a to field produce the Barbershop cast surprising the kids at urban prep, then tell me you dont need me when I coulda stayed sleep.

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2/1 News You Can Use

zyansaeed615 / February 1, 2016

Since Im waiting on Tone and have nothing better to do, I thought I’d do a blog post, since I pay for this domain name and shit. Hey black people! While we arguing bout rapey old black men and dueling baby mommas of a never was rap star, Congress was further disenfranchising you! Here’s it is: Trecretashionvaris goes to buy a benz on his administrative assistant salary. Benzo sends his deets to the bank. Bank tells benzo “we only gonna hit him with a 8% interest rate, but if you wanna make some more money on your end make it 12%.” Benzo 1 looks at Benzo 2 and says “wait, he’s a darkie, hit him with that 16% so we can make MORE MONEY MORE MONEY MORE MONEY!” The homies over at CFPB (The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau) said : “wait a minute muthafuckas! yall gotta stop overcharging our nubian brothers and sisters and other “persons of color”, and if you dont, you better make sure you charge everyone the same interest rate.” The dealers said “talmbout same interest rate. fuck you mean. wait thats too hard, we cant be expected to treat car shoppers equally. Lobbyist do your job! Create a bill allowing us to continue to be discriminatory. Tell Congress we need help robbing people!” And Congress heard their plea, looked into their clear eyes and strong hearts, and answered their call. Here are the Illinois Democrats that sold us out. (sorry other states, you have to look it up for yourself.) 8th District – Tammy “UP FOR 2016 RE-ELECTION” Duckwork – 847.413.1959 17th District – Cheryl “Cheri UP FOR 2016 RE-Election” Bustos – 202.225.5905 11th District Bill Foster – 630.585.7672 3rd District Dan Lipinski – 708.424.0853 5th District Mike Quigley – 773.267.5926 AND IN CASE YOU DONT KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE: Do with all of this information what you will. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/democrats-car-dealers-racism_us_564e440ae4b0258edb30ba10 ************************************************************************************************************************************** Flint. Poor, poor Flint. By know we all know whats going on in that poor town. And there are several people that should be in jail, much like here in our beloved Chicago, but I digress. The water is fucked. The people are fucked. The town is fucked. What you probably didnt know, is that way before the water was undrinkable, unbathable etc, the town was being used for fucking target practice. YEPPERS. Michael Moore, the peoples champ and official #feelthebern-er, wrote an article about the 10 things we dont know about Flint. Horrifyingly enough he wrote about how the town was being used for two years as target pratice. Unnanounced military exercises were taking place “complete with live ammo – GRENADES AND SHIT – and explosives” inside city limits! Yep. This would be the perfect time to go find Yeezus and ask him to talk about folks not caring about black people, but Yeezus is dead. RIP. (shouts out to all the Chi-Towners doing their part during the Flint water crisis. I see you. So does the Good Lord. http://ecowatch.com/2016/01/30/michael-moore-flint/ ************************************************************************************************************************************** EL CHAPO Is in jail. He did not escape. I wish I was surpised at how often I saw this article shared on social media, but Im not. The fake site did a good job this time as it presented itself with a url very close to abcnews’s, but……. From the “about us” section of the website: Do you have a complaint? We love to hear them! You can call our complaint department directly at (785) 273-0325. Do you have a problem with self-rape? Are you looking to get off the Devil’s playground?Fappy The Anti-Masturbation Dolphin can help! Praise Fappy! FAPPY. THE. ANTI. MASTURBATION. DOLPHIN. And y’all believed that shit.

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So Easily Distracted

zyansaeed615 / July 29, 2015

I am lazy. I have an unquestionable talent. It’s unquestionable because not one person that I meet in the realm of what I am talented in, will let an opportunity pass without telling me how talented I am. But I am lazy without question as well. They also tell me that. This blog should be full. Every month should have at least 20 posts in it. I should blog everyday. I work in a newsroom. Im not without source material. Im on the internet allllllls fucking day. Im not without source material. I talk to folks from all walks of life. Im not without source material. But, Im lazy….and probably a bit afraid to walk into my destiny or find out everyone has been lying to me. Along with my laziness, I can also get very distracted. When I think about sitting down to write something, I inevitably think of other things I would like to be, which takes me away from the task of writing. I would like to be, in no particular order….a flight attendant, a writer, an actress, a singer, a comedian, Mrs. Urlacher, Mrs. Long, Mrs. Chadwick, a chef, a focus group moderator, a host, a socialite, a Lotto winner, a mom, a social anarchist, an avenger, a bartender and the woman of the manor on a large plot of land in Cuba where I will wander aimlessly, barefoot in a maxidress, suckling a sugar cane, while taking sips of my homemade exquisite caipirhinia – fuck. I can drink that word, but I can never spell it. Oh well. So distraction is a problem as far as my personal goals and aspirations is concerned, but thats about the only space in which I am distracted. Im pretty dope at multitasking. I planned a boss assed retirement party for mi madre, while going thru a soul crushing breakup. I was able to care about a family member’s incarceration, while still enjoying Power. Believe it or not, I wrote said person a letter WHILE I was watching Power. And one time I was talking to said person annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd watching power. BOOM! POW! PING! PEW-PEW! I sat in the Amy Winehouse documentary and figured out what I was having for dinner. I wanted our girls brought back whilst hoping for our girls and boys to not be killed in my hometown. Yeah, Im that deal. I was participating in my favorite masochistic activity – perusing Facebook – this morning, when I became inspired to write. This column has been brewing for a while, but the desire became action because of Aubrey, my boy TJ and an idiot friend of his. Thanks idiot friend*. You have pushed me into this morning’s destiny. This fool is one of the ones who sit on high – OWSOH (oh’-sew) is how I will forever refer to them. (did I just coin a catchword? Its catchword a word?) The Owsohs would have you believe you cant pay attention to more than one thing at a time. That you are as simple of brain as they. It’s how they get to feel good about themselves and whatever the fuck they care about or stand for….barf. Exhibit A: TJ dared to post about Drake now pissing on the grave on the already dead and buried Meek Mills (as you and your cousins like to call him) and one of the Owsoh’s took the time to call “DISTRACTION”. As the kids say, such a boring and lazy read. This man, who writes FOR A LIVING, whose job it is to be informed, is – or his fb pals are – being distracted by a fucking rap battle. Weren’t you able to find this meme and breathe out your mouth at the same time like other idiots? Im sorry, forgive me, but I aint sorry. The Owsohs are so condescending, that they deserve my disdain. An Owsoh told me to dig deeper when I questioned why people persisted with the “Sandra Bland is Dead in her Mugshot” campaign. Which is exactly what I thought she should have done when challenging me. I think it even more strongly now that we have video of her WALKING INTO THE JAIL, and her mugshots being taken. This Owsoh, also challenged me on The Cos. Said he wasnt convicted, so he’s not guilty. I told her, Zimmerman wasnt convicted in a court of law, but we know he is a murdered. She told me, “I dont know anything about Zimmerman.” Owsoh, you oh so….not worth my time. They tell us we cant pay attention to and comment on pop culture and care that our brothers and sisters are being murdered by the ones sworn to protect us. They tell us that we should question the timing of Bill Cosby’s legacy tarnishment and not the over 30 years of non-convictable rapes he visited upon young girls. The homegirl Mama Akila organizes a Chicken Crawl in honor of her most favorite food, but rallied a stunning seek and destroy mission of a woman who dared to insult the dignity of a black woman and her children who were simply enjoying a day at the beach and had the nerve to splash a white woman who was sitting at the water’s edge. Pretty sure if the Owsoh’s only saw Akilahs posts about chicken, they would call her distracted as well. And then they would be in trouble….. Im tired kids, tired of black folks dying, black folks crying and other folks lying, annnnnnnnnnnnd Im writing this at <redacted>, with what feels like 100 eyes on me, so Im gonna close this out with this screencap, which perfectly captures my mood, thoughts and fux about Owsohs. Yes, my beloved Deray….you are magic. So am I. Continue to multitask. Now, Im really gonna go before I forget to post this due to the re-emergence of the Ice Bucket Challenge, cuz yes…thats a thing and a distraction. *Writers note: Dear

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The Pursuit of Mayoralness

zyansaeed615 / January 28, 2015

A couple of months ago, I was selected to be one of the “Top Bachelorettes of Chicago” — yeah y’all see it. It was a pretty dope event, but everyone there was much younger than me. There was this one dude in there, fly as hell, playing the back. I slid over, laid my game down quite flat, put the dimples on him and shit. We chitted and chatted. He told me he traveled a lot for his father’s company – was rarely in town. We exchanged numbers and ended up texting a week or so later, but nothing ever materialized. He floated to that place in my brain where people I meet in passing go to be forgotten. I’m quite certain I disappeared to that same exact place in his. Fast Forward a couple months, I’m lying on Frusband’s couch, watching some fair and balanced news, when I see a face on the screen, that I know, but don’t know. It was dude. It was a story about how his wealthy father was a not a dead beat dad, as his half-brother previously described him on that very same news program. I remember the complete story, but I ain’t gonna bore y’all with the details. At this point in the story, the only pertinent information is his daddy was running for mayor of Chicago and is worth 60 MILLION DOLLARS. What follows is where some of you will begin to think less of me and some of you will completely understand. Found him on The Book. Hit that message button and SLIIIIIIDDDDDDDDDD all up in his inbox. Said some old slick shit, we went back and forth a couple messages. He was still that cool dude I’d spent that evening with. I decided at that point, I would never run my big mouth about his dad on social media, for one day, I may be the First Lady of the Family Business. Today, I learned why people should not ever say never. His father forced my hand today. His father tapped danced all over my last good nerve. His father walked me right up to the edge, and pushed. His father challenged my resolve ….and his father’s name is Willie Wilson. I met Mr. Wilson when he came by my job to do an interview. When he and his contingency arrived, I thought them to be a church group. Nothing about them screamed politics. Nothing. It wasn’t until I saw him on his way out and he asked if he had my vote that I discovered he was running for mayor. I told him I had to check out his platform and I’d holla back. Well, check him out I did. In the interview with our political editor. In the infamous Chicago Tribune Questionnaire. On Chicago Tonight. On Hardball. And finally kids….in the Great Mayoral Debate of ’15. JEEZUS. Let me just say, for those of you who may not be familiar with Mr. Wilson, his is an incredible story. Google “Rags to Riches” and you are gonna see his face. This is a person who has truly picked himself up by his bootstraps and like most of us he wasn’t wearing a halo the entire time. There are skirmishes, accusations, deaths, personal setbacks and still, he rose. Despite only having a 7th grade education, this man has ascended to the heights that many of you can only dream. (SHADE TREE EMOTICON AT YALL) As he likes to remind us, he is two generations from slavery. His manner of speaking won’t let us forget that fact – it can be challenging at times to understand him. But he’s created and run a number of successful companies, so somewhere along the way someone knew exactly what the fuck he was talking about…FUCK MYA. So this is what made me give up my light weight quest for the throne. This is an actual tweet sent out by…..somebody in his camp, after the first mayoral debate. I suppose they felt victorious. The much vaunted “gotcha moment” had been achieved, I guess. It helps if you know how to spell your opponent’s name and understand subject verb agreement if you are attempting to feel superior to someone. He’s not ready to be Mayor. And that’s fine. Many argued Barack wasn’t ready to be President, but he was. Willie don’t seem to give NO FUX about being mayor, and that, is not fine. His platform, or lack thereof, written responses, spoken responses and those he’s chosen to surround himself with, tell me that. If I’m wrong and you do have fux to give, Willie, pick up what I’m bout to lay down. 1. Please understand that Spell Check is your friend. It’s all of our friend, trust me. Please don’t ever again send out another written response nor TWEET without hitting the ol’check. Share this info with your press person too, K? 2. Get a one-way ticket out of Hollywood. Hendon. As in Rickey. He has you running for mayor of Black Chicago and that place does not exist. That nickel slick shit he does works on the west side. It ain’t gonna play all over the city. And another thing, lemme holla at you bout them radio spots Hollywood blessed you with…. 3. Stop talking bout Meigs Field. It’s not “hot-button” as they say in politics. No one is sitting out on Northerly Island on a warm summer night thinking about how they wish they weren’t there, but an airport they never went to was. Promise. 4. Hire some political consultants. Let Sister Mary’nem return to the Deaconess Board. I seent you on Election Night up on da stage with Boss Rauner. He bought a campaign, ask him for the homies number. 5. Don’t come back until you do all of the above. You are the shit in so many ways. You could likely teach a class at Harvard School of Business. Hell, a Pursuit of Happyness type of movie