Something’s rotten…

July 1, 2017
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3stone pendantSo, I’m trying to raise some cash to pay my rent and I take a diamond pendant that I paid 800 for about 7 years ago to a store that claims to pay you more for jewelry you don’t want, than any store in town. They offered me $37.50 and claimed that it was a piece of junk (w/3 .90 carats diamonds channel set in 14k gold).


Three weeks ago, I took what I thought to be $500 worth of jewelry to a different store and they actually gave me $150. I’d bet that amount that I go back to that store in a couple of months and just ONE of the pieces I gave away will be listed at that price.


It’s not that they give you what you want, it’s that they give you what they want to give you and what you want or need be damned.

Works the same way when you go out to buy a car.  Think about it.


On the 3-stone pendant, the guy claimed it was a mass-marketed pendant with very little gold value in it and that if I wanted an “investment” piece, I’d have to spend at least $10k to get a decent return.


I guess if I went on to a crowd-funding website, I’d probably have more luck getting what I need. Except for the embarassment part.


There’s something fishy going on here and if I can’t get back at least half of what I put in, I’ll not be buying any more “real” jewelry any time soon.

10 questions to ask a man…

May 23, 2017
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  1. are you selfish?
  2. do you think all women are bitches and whores?
  3. are you afraid? (of people, traveling, trying new stuff?)
  4. do you know how to share?
  5. do you know how to laugh?
  6. are you easy to talk to?
  7. are you a good listener?
  8. how do you feel about PDAs?
  9. are you a cheapskate or stingy (see selfish)?
  10. do you know when to just be there?

Bonus question:  are you gullible? (if he doesn’t know what “gullible means”, run!) if you don’t know what “gullible” means, go look it up, dammit!  and stop being gullible!

This is my skin color and I’m sticking to it…

September 12, 2016
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this-is-my-skin-color This is my skin color. Because of this color, people try to inflict sufferings and afflictions of outrageous nature that take the form of every begging asshole within a 5-block radius coming up to me, asking me if I want to buy a ticket, a bus pass, some water, some pills, get cheated at 3-card monte or how about I help a brother out with some change, bitch?. Coming home on the light rail one evening, there was even a woman selling children’s clothing.  Looked as if the stuff was looted from some store in Ferguson.

The cops are never around when you need them.

Only time you see them is when there’s going to be a baseball, hockey or used to be football game somewhere in the vicinity of downtown or there’s a crowd of anxious citizens protesting somewhere or people are just standing around waiting to get shot.

If I was this shade of pale liter-shade-of-pale or even fairer, I could expect my commute to be fairly pleasant and uneventful (not including the day a brown-skinned human tried to get run over by the light rail train).

But, since I am this shade,this-is-my-skin-color, it appears that the people I meet seem to think (just like in the late 19th until mid-20th centuries when all black men were called “George”)  that I don’t have a name, we all look and act alike, my skin color means I don’t have feelings, can’t fall in love or pick a beautiful flower for my own enjoyment.  Being this shade, people try to make me and others this shade or darker believe that we are one step removed from a hairy ape, that the only emotion I can express is anger or murderous rage. Last time I checked, I can cry actual tears of joy and sadness, just like every one else.

Shameless plug for about crying.

GOOGLE search Lots of pictures of crying women

The story goes like this, apparently, this this-is-my-skin-color  chick could have been a prima ballerina, a singer, a famous musician’s girlfriend/wife or a former high school football star’s main squeeze, but only if she had been liter-shade-of-pale , even though this chick sat with this liter-shade-of-pale dope through quite a number of years of trials and tribulations, when this knuckle-head man needed someone to lean on and she gave him her shoulder. Apparently, not obvious to him, the feelings and emotion and understanding that went along with that shoulder. She didn’t hope for happily ever after and didn’t get it. He chose someone liter-shade-of-pale and told this-is-my-skin-color chick they would never be anything more than friends.  Really? I held her hand and told her to walk away and not look back! I wished I could come up with a plan to embarrass this liter-shade-of-pale fool and expose him for the selfish, manipulative, narcissistic son of a bitch he really is.

Oh well, moving on!

All things being what they are, being this shade this-is-my-skin-color  has taught me not to hang on to stupidity, make my way elsewhere and keep fighting this battle for my color, my life. Keep working toward getting the pale set to understand that I am just as human and emotionally expressive as they are, coloration be damned.

The lesson? Don’t chase after any this-is-my-skin-color or liter-shade-of-pale person who is no longer interested in you in any way, shape or fashion. Use your brain and voice to confront  people who say things such as “we’ll get along just fine because you do what you’re told” with a slight sneer and no eye contact.  I beg your pardon! We’re going to have to retract that comment!

Being this-is-my-skin-color, has absolutely nothing to do with the way my brain and personality work.  It has nothing to do with my ability to hold a rational conversation or think coherent thoughts. I was brought up in a city that was very unique in its’ time. I was brought up in a place where I was never told I couldn’t do something because of my this-is-my-skin-color . Matter of fact, it was mandatory that this not stop me from learning. There were no excuses that were sufficient for me to be a “slacker”.

Being this shade this-is-my-skin-color or that shade liter-shade-of-pale has absolutely nothing to do with any person’s ability to learn, adapt, thrive and explore and love.

Disparaging, disrespecting or putting down a person because of their skin color is wrong! It’s racism, pure and simple!

Kevin Hart, take note! I’ve stopped going to any of your movies, buying your albums or watching you on Netflix until you change your racist attitude toward brown skin women.



hate speech 101

June 26, 2016
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hate speech is any speech, gesture or conduct, writing, or display which is forbidden because it incites violence or prejudicial action against or by a protected individual or group, or because it disparages or intimidates a [particular] individual or group.”

any time the donald stands up in front of a crowd and cameras, he is practicing “hate speech”. nowadays, people hide hate speech in dog whistle rhetoric, pretending concern over the current state of affairs vis-a-vis “the immigrant situation”, “the crime situation” or “the muslim situation” . it’s all cleverly hidden rhetoric for the same tone, language and attitudes that many whites had when I was growing up as a child. “the only good ni-word is a dead n-word”, except now, it takes 20 words to say the same thing the previous 8 words say. if you notice, these words are coming out of the mouth of a human who thinks his money makes him invulnerable to consequences. if anyone complains, his lawyers get together and throw money at the problem until it goes away. trump gets the bill and that’s all he gets.

if you thought reagan and bush were bad, wait’ll you get a load of “the donald”. bend over and kiss this country good-bye.

this probably means we need to now add immigrants, gays and muslims to the “protected” category in the 1st amendment.

Dr. King is Dead…

February 7, 2016
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mlk statue

“out of a mountain of despair, a stone of hope”

and something very strange is going on…

Black people are being judged by the color of their skin…

not the content of their character…

It’s why so many black people are being murdered…

and all of us are targets in this 21st century…






who’s going to save us now?

in prison



it’s black history month in STL…

February 7, 2016
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Because I’m brown-skinned, people keep insisting that I’m uneducated, unemotional and inarticulate. The reality is most likely I’m better educated, more caring and articulate than pretty much everyone I’ve run into.

This same problem exists among my own people. The fair-skinned people make the same assumptions that the white people do and my own people, fair-skinned, my hue and darker assume that the only thing I’m good for is to be passed around like so much dead meat. For the most part, all of them ignore me, until I get angry, not because I’m a black woman (and stereotypically angry), but because I’ve figured out I’m being ignored. I consider this to be very insulting.

The women suspect me because I don’t have children. The men suspect me because I don’t have children.

The women don’t know how to be gracious and welcoming and the men don’t know how to be kind and considerate.

Too many people want to stick their head in the sand and keep it there. Too many are afraid to break away and do something different.

Despite my appearance, I very much have feelings and desire to be listened to, loved and cared for just like anyone else. I also don’t want to have to “fit in” in order to be accepted.

What’s pissing me off is that most of the people I’ve run into here in STL behave this way and none of them have an understanding of how narrow-minded, racist and bigoted this is. Pretty sad state of affairs.

in prison

is the nigger inside…

January 2, 2016
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SERIOUSLYWhat is a nigger? It’s certainly not me because I wasn’t brought up to think of myself that way, nor do I think anyone else is either.

For  the past 20-plus years I’ve lived in STL, I didn’t pay much attention to people’s behavior or thinking.  I did wonder from time to time why white people seemed to stare or be rude or careless or tried to race-walk me up or down stairs or to front doors of places I wanted to enter. There was also this attitude of not listening whenever I had an opinion about a topic of conversation. As if nothing I could say would be of any importance.

It took me that long to realize that the reason they behaved that way was because they were mentally calling me names!  Specifically, the word “nigger” and because they thought that way, I was expected to act that way.

Luckily, where I was born, raised, and lived, no one ever taught me to think of myself that way or to think of anyone else that way. “Nigger” and all its’ variations were words that was never heard in my home. That’s why it took me so long to figure this out.  The closest I ever came to be called a nigger was when this very nice southern lady in Atlanta, GA, called me a “colored gal”. I never spoke to her again.

The other problem is all black people have a nasty habit of thinking of themselves as “niggers” in a group think mentality. They think it when they see other black people and talk to each other in the same way they think. A fellow “nigger”.

White people think of black people as “niggers” and this thinking comes out in the way they behave toward people of color.

The best example I can use is when a white person thinks a black person is “out of place” as determined by the expression on the white person’s face or closed body language when this happens. In my world, this happens when I speak to a white person in what I think is a normal manner to do something or need something and he or she reacts in a “how dare you” manner. It’s very subtle and hard to catch if you don’t know what to look for.

the second someone thinks “nigger”, it starts oozing out of their pores. It appears in that person’s expression, their body language and the tone of their conversation.

Black folks also have a nasty habit of thinking this way. It always appears when there are two or more black people working together. The best example of this is when one black person trains another and one or both of them, spend way too much time trying to one-up each other instead of spending the time to get to know one another and learn. I see this at my job all the time and again, it took me a long time to figure out why there seemed to be this weird dynamic that would happen each time I tried to engage with my black coworkers. I even had a black coworker try to bad-mouth me to our supervisor for something that one other person I work with was doing the same thing I tried to teach my coworker to do. The other person was a white female.

This is a behavior that desperately needs to be “unlearned”!!

It’s a form of lynching and the only purpose it serves is to perpetuate divisiveness. Someone is always trying to get over by climbing over on someone else’s back/talents. After a while, you grow eyes in the back of your head and stop engaging with people you don’t know. I hate living like this!

If you judge a book by its’ cover, you’ll miss the whole story!

It’s like the line that Sidney Poitier spoke in “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” where he told his dad that he thinks of himself as a “colored” man and Sidney’s character stated he “thinks of himself as a man”.

This is the place that black people need to get to here in STL and very likely in the entire country. We have a couple of generations that are walking around feeling very left out and it may be up to us “old-heads” to grab them by the hand (or the neck) and teach them how to speak up for themselves and go for what they want without guns, drugs, or cussing…

on being michael brown jr.

November 30, 2014
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one white cop.

one young black man.

one with a gun.

one with his fists.

Darren Wilson.

Michael Brown, Jr.


In the shortened version of this story, the white cop did not sustain enough damage to justify killing an unarmed black man.  If he looked like Rodney King or Reginald Denny, I would be able to understand his shooting this young man to protect himself from being beaten to death. Looking at the pictures that were taken of him at “hospital”, left me shaking my head in wonder.

In the long, drawn out version told to the alleged Grand Jury, this officer feared for his life at the hands of a big, black teenager. There’s a possibility that this young man generally used his substantial size to bully and coerce others into doing his bidding. His parents said he was a gentle giant, but the video of him picking on the smaller adult in the store he took the cigarillos from, you can extrapolate that this young man did know he was big and burly and could get what he wanted by using his size to do so.

By the way, the cop was well-coached by his lawyers. He had to tell his story as straight-faced, unemotional and neutral-voiced as possible in order to be credible, even if he was lying through his teeth.

In the next version (mine), you have to wonder if the white cop was thinking with his primal brain when he kept pulling the trigger because Brown Jr. just wouldn’t stop coming and Wilson knew that if he just kept shooting, he could make this big-ass bear-child stop walking towards him with murder in his eyes. In my version, the question arises “was Wilson afraid or was he playing target practice with this young man?” In my version, I would also include the question of why Wilson couldn’t take a couple of punches from this unarmed black man and if he did take  couple of punches, why isn’t he walking around with at least one black eye, some knuckle-shaped purple-black bruises, a broken or dislocated jaw or a thoroughly damaged ear? If he was afraid for his life, does that mean that the slaps he probably got from Brown did, at least, dislocate his jaw? To me, that much damage might justify this officer shooting this unarmed black man to death.

The pictures I’ve seen of Wilson, there’s not enough facial damage done to warrant shooting Brown to death. The grand jury should have found probable cause to indict, based on the evidence. There should also be questions as to why Wilson was “walking” shots up this young man’s body. Was it target-practice? A well-placed couple of shots to the knees or femur would have gone a long way towards putting this young man down and preserving his life, extra “witnesses” be damned.

The question this so-called Grand Jury didn’t ask: why didn’t Wilson shoot to disable (a knee cap, femur or ankle) instead of taking the life? Was he thinking with his primal brain (kill the threat/or run like hell) or with his logical brain (play target practice on the n-word and make him suffer).

It appears to me that cops are no longer attempting to disable or maim, they are killing young black men, even if the circumstances don’t warrant it. They are not being trained to recognize when the primal brain is trying to take over to end a confrontation at all costs, instead of the logical brain which would calculate where to put a bullet to stop or slow further mayhem from happening. I would rather see an alive human being, missing an arm or leg rather than see a human being lying in the street unarmed and dead.

Some time in the not too-distant future, we’re going to find out that the 3 black jurors probably caved in to the 9 white jurors. Blacks here in MO are notoriously afraid of white people for absolutely no good reason. The blacks here keep giving whites some sort of power over what they say and do and always seem to be acquiescing to them, even to the detriment of their own opinions, ideas and lifestyles.

I think it’s way past time for black people to “stand their ground” and demand to be treated and given the same privileges as the white people in Missouri currently enjoy. There is economic opportunity everywhere in this state if everyone would realize the only color that matters is the color of your money.

It’s time for Black folks to stop ”stepping off the sidewalk” and “getting out of the way” and to demand respect, fair treatment and equal rights from whites in Missouri.

A leader is needed who’ll tell it like it is and confront the issues that are holding race relations in the state of Missouri hostage.

Black people here are living and working as if it is still the 1950s and Jim Crow is alive and well. The only place it’s okay to sit up front is on the bus or the MetroLink and only in a seat by yourself, because a white person will not sit next to you.

Missouri needs a governor who is not suffering from “tunnel” vision when it comes to what is really going on among both groups of his constituents. Missouri needs politicians who are aware and not afraid to confront and speak about what is holding this state and its’ people back from becoming an important player in the world market.

Missouri really needs to stop trying to keep the world off its’ doorstep and allow real progress to be had both in education, economics and racial equality, access to information and genuine communication. If MO wants to be a player in the world market, its’ leaders need to stop controlling “outsiders” access to creating businesses and come up with a plan to properly educate all  of its’ citizens.

MO needs a leader that is willing to welcome business ventures from outside the state that would help the state to grow and truly enter the 21st century global market.  It needs to have leaders who are non-exclusive in who they will deal with or communicate with in this current global environment.

When will MO become “the state that’s too busy to hate”

and invite the world to its’ front door?

thought for the day

January 18, 2014
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shut up! sometimes the best way to be heard is to stop talking.

double nickels and a full moon

January 15, 2014
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buttery moon 2014this evening, I watched a bright, butter yellow moon rise slowly over the tree tops while sitting on the train home this evening. I counted myself very fortunate to be able to sit still for 35 minutes and experience the phenomenon of that moon. I’ve seen that moon before, but never quite the way I saw it tonight.

at first I wasn’t sure what it was, it looked like something was on fire, because the top of it was barely seen through the tree-tops and it took 5 minutes to reveal itself  that bright, butter yellow orb that took its’ sweet time to appear in the distance.

i could blink and miss some aspect of that rising moon, so much so that it seemed as if the moon was frog- leaping into the sky should I look away.

i’m glad i got to see that moon rise. i count is a blessing and a privilege that i could sit still long enough to enjoy and appreciate it.

such a simple pleasure in this fast-paced world where everyone seems to be looking down (phone/ipad/laptop/notebook) at something in their laps these days.

i hope to see many more.

55mphfor the uninformed, double nickels means 55, which the age i will be in the spring. to me, this number is just as momentous as age 40 or 50 for that matter. it means that i am 5 years away from being 60 and that much closer to a retirement that i am not prepared for, neither emotionally nor fiscally. i, like many others, unfortunately dropped a lot of money into the stock market, relying solely on this as the way to secure my retirement future. bad idea. two years before i turned 50, half of the money i had saved was gone in the nuclear blast that was the housing market debacle. sucked away into a black hole.

sadly, this did not come to pass. to add insult to injury, two years after i turned 50, i was fired from my job. no severance, no golden parachute, nothing. i then made the mistake of assuming that my skills would put me back into the job market within a couple of months and ran around having some fun. it actually took 18 months and by that time, i had lived through the remaining money from my 401k. so much for the plans of worms and women.

i count myself foolish for believing the lie that the stock market would be the means towards my independence and comfort in my dotage.

i’m still grateful for having seen that moon.

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