Wednesday, December 30, 2009


Going into the New Year I am ready for change. I have had turmoil in my life and so much bad luck. It seems I can’t shake off the seven year of superstition that has entered my life according to my horoscope. If only I can see the glass half full I think I would try to connect to change.

It’s been years since I have been able to connect to changing my life. Almost like reinventing yourself at every age. I have stumbled and tripped and can’t seem to get my head above water as the old folks say. Being from a small itty bitty town it’s hard to shake off that itty bitty grind that keeps on hitting the four walls of my mind. My mothers always said do your best and keep on trying but that’s still not good enough in society eyes. I say my mothers because as young child I was raised by my grandmother, aunties and of course my real mother when she had time for me. I would tell you who I am but that isn’t that important. But I will tell you I am stubborn, pessimistic, and stuck with the itty bitty grind.

Seeing my glass half full will take will power and connection of my heart and my brain. Only I can do that, not anyone else. The troubles that still plague me are troubles that seem to follow me where ever I go. It seems as if I haven’t leaned a God damn thing because my inventory needs cleaning and I don’t know where to start. Each and every time I look in the mirror I see the glass half empty instead of seeing it half full. I tell myself everyday to stop this shit and keep it moving. Hey who am I but an individual who is messed up with messed up problems that seem to grow inside of me like flesh eating bacteria.

After all, my stubborn ways and my messed up mentality, it’s time to see my glass half full. It’s hard but someone has to do it, and that someone is me. Me. I say me! It’s time for the change I know I can bring to myself. It’s needed and I must see it for what it truly is. When it’s all said and done, stigmas, bad habits, and hereditary glory means nothing. What really matters is how I see myself and seeing my own glass half full.

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Thursday, December 24, 2009


From our family here at "Diva's House" have a safe and fantastic new year!

Wednesday, December 23, 2009


Plump it, stuff it, fill it, and give me a good hair weave is what they say. Pursuing these heartless treats are people we know and love. People we admire and follow like a screaming toddler follows its mother as she leaves for work. Is it pretend or real in America?

Out of balance and out of control are people who customize self for a fake existence. Who, what, why and how is what we ask all the time. Spending the time seeking a fake journey is what we do. It’s what goes down in American society and no one does a damn thing about it. Getting something someone else has is what we do. Allowing ourselves to obtain a life of non stability and horror is what we do. The giddy behavior of getting something that changes who we are is what we do. OMG! My, time has gone by faster than you have ever seen! I can’t rest my poor head for this fake ass shit that plays itself out over and over again.

Who are these people that we are looking to define who we are and what we feel. The art of customization is the art of today. Shop till you drop and while your at it ask your sugar daddy to help you. Meanwhile you are lying down on your back and paying for all of it. I see what has become a tunnel of America who is lost and degrading itself for all things customization. That’s right customize for the love and all the money in the world so I can fit in, be pretty, act like a hoe, drop it like it’s hot, shake it like a salt shaker, and fit in. Wow I am out of breath! Who are these people?

The hold of customization seems to steal away the naturalness and the true beauty of most. It’s like the devil stealing souls and no one pays attention. Seeking who we are and standing for something while doing our part is what we are here to do. It’s what makes us better no matter the length. Signing on to customize self will take you to a place where you can’t get away from. Remember it’s the art of today and the beat goes on and on and on.

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Saturday, December 19, 2009

H.P Lovecraft! "A Garden"

A Garden
By H. P. Lovecraft

There’s an ancient, ancient garden that I see sometimes in dreams,
Where the very Maytime sunlight plays and glows with spectral gleams;
Where the gaudy-tinted blossoms seem to wither into grey,
And the crumbling walls and pillars waken thoughts of yesterday.
There are vines in nooks and crannies, and there’s moss about the pool,
And the tangled weedy thicket chokes the arbour dark and cool:
In the silent sunken pathways springs an herbage sparse and spare,
Where the musty scent of dead things dulls the fragrance of the air.
There is not a living creature in the lonely space around,
And the hedge-encompass’d quiet never echoes to a sound.
As I walk, and wait, and listen, I will often seek to find
When it was I knew that garden in an age long left behind;
I will oft conjure a vision of a day that is no more,
As I gaze upon the grey, grey scenes I feel I knew before.
Then a sadness settles o’er me, and a tremor seems to start:
For I know the flow’rs are shrivell’d hopes—the garden is my heart!

Through Looking-Glass" first edition sells for $115,000!

A first edition of Lewis Carroll's classic book "Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There" -- dedicated to the real life Alice who inspired the story -- was sold at a U.S. auction for $115,000, auctioneers said on Thursday.

Southern California-based Profiles in History said the book, the sequel to "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland", was the highlight of its children's literature sale on Wednesday.

"Through the Looking Glass", published in 1871, includes the nonsense poem "Jabberwocky."

Both works were inspired by 10 year-old Alice Liddell, the daughter of an academic friend of Carroll's.

The edition sold on Wednesday is inscribed in ink "Alice Pleasance Liddell", and was described as having been presented to her by Carroll.

English author Beatrix Potter's personal copy of her work "The Tale of Peter Rabbit" was also sold at the auction, fetching $92,000.

Other highlights included a first edition soft-cover copy of J.K. Rowling's "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" -- described as one of only 200 such copies printed -- which sold for $5,750.


Laredo could be largest US city without bookstore!

LAREDO, Texas – The final chapter has been written for the lone bookstore on the streets of Laredo.

With a population of nearly a quarter-million people, this city could soon be the largest in the nation without a single bookseller.

The situation is so grim that schoolchildren have pleaded for a reprieve from next month's planned shutdown of the B. Dalton bookstore. After that, the nearest store will be 150 miles away in San Antonio.

The B. Dalton store was never a community destination with comfy couches and an espresso bar, but its closing will create a literary void in a city with a high illiteracy rate. Industry analysts and book associations could not name a larger American city without a single bookseller.

"Corporate America considers Laredo kind of the backwater," said the city's most prolific author, Jerry Thompson, a professor at Texas A&M University International who has written more than 20 books.

Since the closing was announced, book lovers in Laredo have flocked to the small store located between City Trendz ("Laredo's No. 1 Underground Hip Hop Shop") and a store that offers $4 indoor go-kart rides to stock up on their favorite titles.

Schoolchildren even wrote letters to the parent company, Barnes & Noble, begging for the store to stay open.

"Without that store, my life would be so sad and boring," wrote a fifth-grader named Bryanna Salinas, who signed her name with a heart.

The Laredo store is among 49 remaining B. Daltons nationwide that Barnes & Noble will close by next year.

The company believes a bookstore is viable in Laredo and has identified a location for a large-format Barnes & Noble, but the space will not be available for at least 18 months, said David Deason, Barnes & Noble vice president of development.

In the meantime, without a single independent bookseller, Laredo may be in a league of its own among big cities.

Though an independent bookstore is the only one of its kind in Newark, N.J., a city of nearly 288,000, big chains are nearby in the suburbs or New York City. Laredo is surrounded by nothing more than rural ranching towns on its side of the border.

"We suffer, but we don't suffer to the extent that a Laredo would," said Wilma Grey, director of the Newark Public Library.

Some worry that the closing could send a message that books and reading are not priorities in Laredo, a hot, steamy city of 230,000 that is choked by smog from trucks lining up at the border, which is home to the nation's biggest entry point for trucks and trains.

Nearly half of the population of Webb County, which includes Laredo, lacks basic literacy skills, according to the National Center for Education Statistics.

Fewer than 1 in 5 city residents has a college degree. And about 30 percent of the city lives below the poverty level, according to the 2000 census.

Laredo residents can still purchase books online, but civic leaders fear that without a bookstore, many residents will not have the opportunity to buy books.

Many also feel that the stigma of not having a bookstore hurts Laredo's reputation.

Outsiders, even other Texans, do not always distinguish between "los dos Laredos," the relatively peaceful city in Texas, and Nuevo Laredo, across the border in Mexico, which has been wracked by drug-war violence.

But some bookstore supporters are undaunted.

Maria Soliz, Laredo Public Library director, is leading the charge to get a bookstore back. The city's library system was already planning to open two more branches over the next two years to meet demand. That's in addition to the two-story main library painted in bold, Mexican-inspired colors that serves about 400,000 visitors annually.

"It's not reflective of the city that they're closing," Soliz said. "I know this city can support a bookstore."

Deason said the Laredo store is profitable, but its profits are not significant when factoring in the expenses of running a chain that's being phased out.

Some people also question the city's priorities. As Elaine Perry walked out of the bookstore earlier this month with a heavy bag of hardcovers, she criticized a recent proposal to build an indoor snow park.

"A snowboarding park in Laredo," Perry said. "Have you ever heard of anything so stupid?"

Bookstore customers tend to be well educated and to have disposable income, said Michael Norris, an analyst with Simba Information. But that demographic is hardly what makes or breaks the business, he said.

A bookstore is "either the cultural center in its community, or it's a pile of books with a roof over it," Norris said.

The B. Dalton in Laredo certainly skews toward the latter. It has narrow aisles, no coffee for sale and not a single chair to sit and read.

City Trendz employee Seve Perez said much of the traffic at Mall del Norte comes from Mexico, both from Nuevo Laredo and deal-seeking shoppers bused in from the country's interior.

Standing behind a rack of sale T-shirts that read "Save Texas Rap," the 66-year-old said his bookish daughters will be crushed when the bookstore leaves.

Next door, Laredo resident Misti Saenz walked out of B. Dalton with a sack of nine romance novels for her teenage daughter. She was stocking up before the store closes Jan. 16.

"It's going to be a total bummer," Saenz said. "It made me wish I had shopped there more."

AP-Associate Press



Bellevue Literary Press is accepting manuscripts. Visit their website for guidelines:

Plainview Press is accepting manuscripts. Visit their website for guidelines: also you can email them at:
If you send a query letter put "query" in subject line.

Replacement Press is accepting book length manscripts. Query with first chapter at: and visit their website at:

Old Brick Press publisher of Scarab (an iphone literary magazine- is seeking submissions for poetry chapbooks (18-24 poems) novellas (50-120 pages). Accepted manuscripts will be published as applications featuring both text and audio. Send your work as email submission to:


2010 Sanfranciso writers conference. Feb 12-14 at the Mark Hopkins Hotel. For more info go to:

22nd Annual Penn writers conference. Lancaster PA. May 14-16. For more info go to: or contact: Ayleen Stellhorn- 717-350-4669
Keynote speaker is author James Rollins.

Las Vegas NV writers conference. April 15-17. Samstown hotel and casino. For more info got to: or call: (866) 869-7842


Split This Rock Poetry Festival-Poems of provocation and witness
March 10-13 2010
Washington DC
For more info go to:
Contact: Sarah Browning-Co Director:
Call: (202)787-5210

For more info go to:

Thursday, December 17, 2009


Wrapped gently I’m in agony tied to life that is lifeless. I stand still in time needing to be free and true.

I am the girl tightly wrapped in gentle bondage that has taken over my life over and over again. Seeing is far and believing is away. The ties that bind are holding me so tight that I am pushed to the breaking point of the cliff's edge. Life has stills and moments that are empty like a hollowed out egg shell. Tainted and filled with nothing I profess to be a girl who is slowly showing death and no face of expression.

As my hands are bound tight I feel like I’m floating, floating like a butterfly in a deceiving world. I see nothing, hear nothing, but taste the death of girl who’s wrapped in gentle bondage. Gentle as it is, it hurts like hell! Burning on the eve of a cold winter’s day that seems like its a hundred degrees especially in my mind. I can’t fight it! I can’t get free! I am just bound in the murky madness of a mind that has an ending, but only to end tragically.

I’m tired, tired of all the flesh eating viruses and the mess that plagues me at every waking moment while I’m held captive but ever so gently. It’s me lying here and manifesting my own ego and preparing for the grand finale. The grand finale of the showing that’s wrapped in madness, lies, happiness, and fear that has embattled me. Why me I ask? It’s the conclusion that’s striking in many aspects of this whole mess.

Poof it’s over! The finale, the ending, it’s over! Then I wake up and look at myself and realize “get your shit together!” As I see myself I touch my face and my hands look tattered and swollen. Rubbing them has made me realize that gentle bondage is in my mind and I’m in a cycle. A gentle but tragic cycle that continues to keep this girl in gentle bondage.

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Wednesday, December 16, 2009

7 Habits' Deal Could Shake Up E-Book Publishing!


When the history of e-books is eventually written, Stephen R. Covey may get an entire chapter. That's because the author of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and Principle-Centered Leadership has moved his e-book rights to those titles from Simon & Schuster to an exclusive arrangement with for its Kindle e-reader.

The move, announced Tuesday by Amazon, is being watched carefully by traditional publishers. They are concerned that more popular authors could make a greater share of profits by licensing their e-book rights directly to e-publishers, rather than by going through print publishers.

50 Versus 25 Percent

According to news reports, Covey will release other titles exclusively as e-books through Amazon. The deal was made with Amazon on Covey's behalf through RosettaBooks, which has said the author will receive half of the net proceeds. Traditional publishers generally offer 25 percent of net from digital publications.

In addition to the higher royalty, Amazon's plans to heavily promote the titles were also reportedly a factor in the author's decision.

One cause for traditional publishers' alarm -- and potentially a big reason why the move could warrant its own chapter in the history books -- is because digital rights are not specifically spelled out in older publishing contracts. Covey's The 7 Habits was first published in 1989 and is a steady seller.

Authors are beginning to contend that any rights not explicitly defined in a contract belong to them, while publishers are maintaining that e-rights are covered. In fact, The New York Times reported Monday that Random House sent a letter this past week to major literary agents, emphasizing that it retains the exclusive right to electronic book publishing.

Although still small by most standards, the e-book market is rapidly heating up. In addition to Amazon's industry-leading Kindle, Barnes & Noble recently released its nook e-reader. While the nook has received less-than-stellar reviews for its technical performance, it does offer some new features, such as e-book lending.

Book Industry 'Fighting Electronic Forms'

Sony has also released several e-book readers, and e-book software is becoming available on smartphones -- including a recently released Kindle app for the iPhone. And Apple's long-rumored tablet computer could have a major impact on e-publishing, if and when it emerges next year.

Brad Shimmin, an analyst with industry research firm Current Analysis, said traditional book publishers are resisting the impact of the new technologies on their content, as did the music industry at first. Starting years ago, he said, the publishing industry "has been fighting electronic forms" of books.

Shimmin noted that the movie and TV industry has learned lessons from the false starts by the music industry, but the book industry has not. Additionally, he pointed out, the book industry "doesn't have the leverage" of the movie and TV companies, who often control the distribution of their products as well as the creation.

Michael Gartenberg, a vice president at Interpret, added that Apple was able to get exclusivity for digital music rights of many songs, which gave it a big leg up as the space developed. He said similar moves by Amazon, if replicated across many titles, could do the same in the new e-publishing industry.

Books magazine apologizes for 'Afro Picks' cover!

Publishers Weekly, the book trade magazine, is apologizing for a cover that has been strongly criticized for being racist.

The magazine's current issue shows a black woman with a crown of afro picks. The headline reads, "Afro Picks," a pun referring to an article about African-American literature. The photo was taken from Deborah Willis' "Posing Beauty," a new book of portraits and snapshots.

Responding to numerous angry Twitter comments, Publishers Weekly senior editor Calvin Reid calls the picture a sweet, funny and striking image of "quirky black hair power."

He wrote Tuesday on the magazine's Web site that he regrets offending anyone, but that it never occurred to him that anyone would be offended. He says he was "very wrong.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009


Irritation, raw sensation, and lots of built up inventory, that’s me. I know its time to release but don’t take the time nor a moment to get some act right. In my mind I can’t think of a god damn thing! Cluttered and oozing with built up self righteous shit I am slowly dying. Dying to concede to anything that may be the break of this lonely mass of I don’t know what.

I am one person in a mass of puss that keeps on building up and taking over my life. No one sees it but me. Deep down in the bottom of my soul I am dark, clouded, jaded, and oh my god hell! I say to myself not me, that’s not me, how can that me, a person oozing with disgust and the shit society has left at my door.

Looking for the breaking point I am blind in a black hole of vulnerability. Shall I feel my way out or just let time take control? Lost in anger that should be bubbly happiness and love, but that doesn’t work. I say that doesn’t work! Is it me or them, who is it, why me. Loosing control I am slipping and sliding like the devil that comes after you but doesn’t reach you because he’s on black ice and borrowed time. Time is time and so is this nonsense that seems to take over my voice, my life and my whole damn existence!

Reaching for something that is not in my grasp is me in bondage. Wrapped up and gagged, is me. In this lonely existence my time is not mine and seems to disappear before my eyes. When I feel my way for something, something that can rescue me my hands grab air, darkness, and hot ass fire. I want I need that something, that anything I can feel, hold on to and touch to tell me it’s ok.

Shaking, steaming and feeling my way for a journey I feel is owed to me is hard as hell! As I try to get out my hell and feel for something I look down at oozing puss full of society shit, and broke ass full of nothing but heartache that keeps pounding and pounding harder to escape the ruckus. The complete idiotic mentality is a joke and it get’s played over and over again.

Again and again we take the plunge into our shit and waste time and keep putting our hands into our own pocket puss.

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Christian Publishers Fight Over Kids' Books!

Thomas Nelson, the world's largest publisher of English-language Bibles, accused its competitor, Evangelical publisher Zondervan, of copyright infringement, civil conspiracy and breach of contract for hiring the same children's book illustrator. Nelson claims that Zondervan's "Princess Twins" children's book series look an awful lot like Nelson's "Gigi, God's Little Princess" series, right down to the button noses, white cats and tea parties.

Meredith Johnson, the illustrator for both book series, is also a defendant in the federal complaint. Nelson says Johnson began working with it in October 2004 on its successful "Gigi" books.

In that series, Gigi and her friend Frances provide Christian lessons to girls between the ages of 4 and 8, who can also buy Gigi dolls, toys, stickers, dress-up kits and clothes.

"'Gigi's First Day of School' was the number one selling Christian DVD for at least two weeks in 2009," Nelson says in its complaint.

Nelson complains that soon after Gigi's debut, Zondervan hired Johnson to draw its "substantially similar" Princess Twins series.

Zondervan's Princess Emma and Nelson's Gigi "both have round faces, dark wavy hair, button noses, two prominent front teeth and virtually identical smiles," according to the complaint. It adds that several story lines are the same, and each girl has a white cat.

Johnson started working for Nelson on a work-for-hire basis and was "apparently remained disgruntled with the compensation," when she negotiated a deal with Zondervan, according to the complaint.

Nelson seeks damages for breach of contract, intentional interference with business relations, copyright infringement, unfair competition, violation of the Tennessee Consumer Protection Act and civil conspiracy.

R.Kelly Writing Memoir!

R. Kelly is writing more chapters, only this time, it's not for his "Trapped" saga, but for a new memoir.

The 42-year-old singer, writer and producer says in a statement issued Wednesday that he is working on an autobiography with David Ritz that will "tell it like it is."

He has a lot to talk about. He's one of the best-selling recording artists in history but also one of the most controversial.

The book promises to go through all his drama, including child pornography charges that ended with an acquittal.

The autobiography is untitled right now, just like his new CD. It's scheduled for release by Tavis Smiley's SmileyBooks in 2011.

Monday, December 7, 2009


As I breathe and cling to life I breathe ever so gently like a snail taking it’s time after a fresh rain. Clinging to life like hanging on a jungle vine with no where to fall is more than I can take. The blood in my veins rushes up to my head and I am confused.

Screaming to the world so someone can hear me I turn and put my arms over my head and cry, cry like rain hits during a hurricane. Clarity has yet to enter my mind because of the range of emotions that’s cluttered like cock roaches bunched up in a ghetto house in the bottoms. I don’t know why it’s me. I ask myself that over and over again. It plays out in my mind like a phenomenal movie script gone wrong.

No daddy no mommy to hear me cry to hear me laugh. I don’t know why it’s me. No connection to a soft voice who tells me “baby I love you.” No voice to tell me “you are daddies little girl.” No voice just utter silence and confusion. I can’t see me anywhere. I don’t belong. I am just I instead of “we.”

Torn completely in half of the destruction of two people who made bad choices and left me out in the cold with no one to hold me and love me. I don’t know why it’s me. As I try to clarify the madness in my head I try to breathe. Breathe to catch my breath because there is no one there for comfort me. As I struggle with all the pretty tragedies that plagued me I see nothing but a lost soul. My soul is empty, confused, mad, angry and lost. It has me in hell caught up like a hoe is with her pimp. I don’t know why it’s me.

Tragedies are mini life stories dying for someone like mommy or daddy to breathe air into what it could be. Dying to have closeness, love, and life is non existent. The mind plays tricks on you and creates something that isn’t there. I am breathing like a person on their death bed as they seep into their last moments and take their final breath. I need someone to help me, pick me up and save me! I breathe a fragile but tragic breath and I float like air. Falling softly I’m floating like a jellyfish in a place of all things beauty but tragic. As I leave I destruct like a volcano that spills hotness, madness and fire wanting and wishing for that someone…I breathe little breaths like fish blowing gentle bubbles in a sea of blackness.

Pretty, loveless, confusion, and falling into hell is me. Why it’s me I don’t know. Death is my portal and I am that one who enters it while falling softly into a pretty tragedy.

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Sunday, December 6, 2009


Your jingling baby go head baby…oh those words from L.L Cool J himself. Wow, how that resonates with so many young people of yesterday and today. It’s funny that so much of what is said in rap songs seem to find its way in our living rooms, classrooms and yes our children’s mouths.

Jiggle this, shake that, and let’s not forget drop like it’s hot. Not at all a good look! American society has taken the first amendment to the level beyond the first. It’s so far gone that so many of who resides in American society is counting the days when this all will parish. Well not to that extreme but something like it. Your parents tell you not to smoke, not to have sex, not to talk to strangers and keep your ass in school. Yet is seems most of that is drawn out in a coloring book that’s sold in every major store where you lay out the big dollars to get the must have no no’s. With society steadily evolving to a quick demeaning way of life the hypocrites are sitting back and spreading the love. So many folks say one thing and do something else. It’s back and forth with all the plagued antics of politicians, music videos and dead beat parents not being the role models of today. Why should so many young people grow up in a society that says “don’t do that” then turns it's ugly head around and does it without hesitation.

Sadness is upon us daily with hypocrisy and double your trouble wrong doings at the wheel. Wow, I thought Jesus was at the wheel! When your pastor tells you to put God first and you follow, but yet he’s sticking his “john” in every va-jay jay he can while preaching the word to his congregation. Weakness shows its self daily. People that are, or at least you think are on the right track seem to follow this thing we call temptation. That’s bull! It seems that when there is a mess up someone is blaming someone or something. Then here comes rehab, then praise, then what else a world tour. Oh the society we live in, don’t you just love it.

Hypocrites come in all forms of people. The faces are faces we are familiar with on a daily basis. Our mothers, fathers, teachers, pastors, politicians, and our growing number of celebrity wannabes. Yes, wannabes of celebrity distortion who are clawing their way to the top and has their trap on every news station, internet website, and of course now the in books. Now it’s time to realize how messed up our society really is with just opening your eyes and seeing it for what it truly is.

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Saturday, December 5, 2009


The mack daddy, sugar daddy and spiritual daddy is what God is to most people. So much of what God puts in front of us, he is a part of in more ways than you will ever know. The purpose of his presence is to make us see the wrong and turn it around into something good. Sins come in all forms with no boundaries. So much of what we experience and deliver is what God puts in front of us. He makes us who we are, but there is a catch. Do my will and you will reap the ultimate blessings. Isn’t that what a pimp says to his hoe? Isn’t that what a pastor says to his flock? The realization comes in forms of following the word of God and seeking an understanding of what the word truly is. In a narrow minded society the true father of spirit has become our daddy. The daddy of all daddies who we spill our guts and glory to, who we get mad at and throw three year old fits, and who we have hot fornicating sex with like it’s no tomorrow. Wow! Are we living in the last days or what! The order of the steps is to follow, acknowledge and understand while you proceed with caution. When your mom says listen to what your daddy says, don’t you think you better shut up and listen? It’s ironic that so many people claim to want a daddy but fall into the trap of a fa├žade of what a real daddy is, but don’t take heed to the message. Whether you are running down behind your real daddy who isn’t there or your sugar daddies for money, or your pastor for guidance, just listen to the calling of the real father. Listening takes effort, and in this society where there is no discipline and no divine intervention, it’s not likely this will happen. Those daddies that you want and crave are individuals put in front of you for a reason but known only to God. Realizing who your true daddy is will be up to you, and when you find that; you will always have a daddy in the man above; GOD.

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Busty beauties, big ass black chicks, and hyper sexual individuals are nothing new. Lusting after people who are like this is hyped up like tea baggers and death panels, which is just nothing new. The organic factor goes out the window because everything is added to or just plain manufactured.

A simple side of leaving it to the imagination doesn’t exist in a pop culture society full of drugs, sex and lust. It’s hard to find that one beauty that is organically well put together and still oozes sex appeal. When it comes, it comes at you like the rock slide that happened in Tennessee. You can’t let it go because you don’t know when that clean organic factor that gives a natural sex appeal may appear again. That’s what happened when Elizabeth came to town.

It was a nice spring day in New York City. The warmth and all the likeness of spring was in the air. Massive amounts of people were walking and talking on their cell phones and in the grove as usual. Elizabeth a native of Crisfield Maryland moved to New York to finish her degree in engineering. She moved to Brooklyn where she was renting a nice brownstone with lots of city charm. Elizabeth was the kind of girl that was focused and never put a lot of effort into her look or her clothing choices. Her hair was long and loosely curled and naturally highlighted. No salon no instant color from a cvs drug store. The clothing she choose was your everyday jeans, plaid shirts with princess puff sleeves and her converse sneakers. This was her wardrobe that made her complete. Back in her small town on the eastern shore of Maryland it was standard, at least for Elizabeth. So many people were following trends and trying to be wannabees of some sort of demeaning cult or so-called keeping up with the Jones. To Elizabeth she was being herself even living in a big city full of fashion ideas and new trends happening daily. Everyday she left her brownstone she walked down those somewhat smelly New York streets to catch the train. With her loosely natural curled hair blowing in the wind and her standard attire she was on her way. Her accessories were a nice sterling silver necklace that was a gift from her mom and a Rolex watch that was inherited from her grandmother. No make-up ever touched this natural beauty only carmex for chapped lips. The smell Elizabeth gave off was a smell of flowers, flowers that bloomed in the south when spring first arrives. She was a one of kind organic beauty that wasn’t seen quite often. Most people stared and when she saw them looking they quickly turned away. Women that were all glammed up just wondered why she didn’t take her beauty to the next level. It wasn’t in Elizabeth to pile on the make up and wear massive amounts of accessories. Her style was clean, fresh and simple.

Living in a big city like New York she never felt pressured to be like most of the girls who was rocking the glam look daily. She was being who she was and of course focusing on school. At this point she had been living in New York City for almost a year. Friends were somewhat non existent because of her studies. When she met men they were very attracted to her because of ability to look great without all the extras. This was very attractive to many older men as well as young men living in a city full of divas who showed the goods every chance they got. Elizabeth attracted all types of men who wanted to connect with a real natural woman who had so much. When men were around her they sniffed her and took in the smell and went home and had little adolescence wet dreams. The freshness was appealing even to women. Most women who came in contact with Elizabeth were inspired to be like her and tried to ooze the organic sex appeal that came natural. It wasn’t something they could emulate because they were already tainted, and bitten by the bug of fashion trends, sex and hardcore madness that came in the form of a bad attitude. Every chance Elizabeth had, she hung out at a hip coffee shop where she wrote her papers and drank regular coffee, unlike most people who indulged in lattes. So many who walked by the coffee shop stared and wondered who this beauty was that looked so different. All eyes were on Elizabeth from morning when she left to attend her classes to evening when she returned home to her Brooklyn brownstone.

Elizabeth didn’t let all the attention bother her in any way possible. She just kept pressing on and didn’t care one way or the other. One day while at her usual outing at the neighborhood coffee shop she was sitting down typing on her lap top. She was excited because she had been using the new windows 7. An older gentlemen on his way home walks by the coffee shop and notices Elizabeth. He stares in the window at her for about a minute, and then decides to enter and approach her. This man was a distinguished looking man with salt and pepper hair and slim in build. “Hello young lady how are you?” Elizabeth looks up and smiles with her gleaming natural white teeth. “I’m ok.” “What is your name?” “My name is Elizabeth and yours.” “I’m Eric…Eric Tingle.” “I just want to let you know how beautiful I think you are.” “It’s not everyday that I see a natural beauty like your self in this city.” In her little girl voice that attracted men to the fullest, Elizabeth tells Eric; “Thanks Eric, I do appreciate you saying that.” As Eric was beginning to make more conversation Elizabeth began to pack up her books and her laptop and leave. “Well I guess I will see you around sometime Eric.” “Ok Elizabeth it was nice meeting you.” As Elizabeth walked out Eric held her overwhelming natural smell in his nose until he reached home. Of course he was married with a beautiful wife and kids. He entered his home with Elizabeth still on his mind. He kissed his wife and went upstairs straight for his office. There he plopped down in his chair leaned his head back and finally exhaled. At that moment Eric constantly smelled his hands or any part of his clothing that may have had Elizabeth’s smell on him. He couldn’t deny it, the strong attraction to a young natural beauty like that was strong and he wanted more. His lusting began that day and from that day forward he wanted to touch, sniff, and have contact with Elizabeth. Most of the men that met Elizabeth did what Eric did and some did more like masturbation. It wasn’t likely that Eric would have a chance with Elizabeth. However, every chance he got to see her he made a point to be somewhat close to her. It was a constant struggle but it was already set in motion for Eric to continue is sexual attraction to a young woman like Elizabeth who oozed natural sex appeal in so many ways. Eric thought to himself, “Wow! Elizabeth is so sexually fragile, and so naturally floetic that my brain masturbates like rushing waters splitting a mountain and building a canyon.” “OMG!”

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Friday, December 4, 2009


The grocery store, a place we all go to buy food and little odds and ends that we need during the week. Each week we pick ourselves up and trek to our local market. We make our list of food items and goodies that we have to have each week. It’s interesting how a simple trip to the grocery store can spawn life changing events. Darlene is like most people who shops at the grocery store. She makes her list of food items that she needs to make her week complete. Making the list is one thing, but sticking to it is another. We have all gone that route.

It was Saturday about 9 am and Darlene woke up went down stairs in her white furry bedroom shoes and her hideous food spotted, torn and raggedy pajamas. There’s no marriage and no children in Darlene’s world. She weighs about four hundred pounds; give or take a few. Moving is not what she does best. However a trip to the local grocery store is one of her favorite moves of all. After drinking a large cup of orange soda she finally got up and went to dress for the trip to the grocery store. As she undressed in the mirror she looked at the numerous large dented cellulite spots and massive rolls on her big body. It wasn’t an eye opening moment, but an oh well moment. Eating was what kept her sane and happy. Finally she got dressed in the normal huge, pockets in the front dress, aka “the moo moo.” She did her hair and added some make up and walked out of her tiny apartment. Yes, I said tiny. How ironic. As she was getting into her small red Kia she had to twist and turn and literally shove herself in her car. She couldn’t afford much, because going to the grocery store was where all her money went.

Darlene arrived at her local Smith’s grocery store in Las Vegas. Once again she did her usual song and dance twisting and turning and pulling to get her four hundred pound body out of the car. Finally success! Now she could enter the grocery store and get her favorite foods. Upon entering the Smith’s grocery store she looked over at the cart return. She dreaded the cart return. That meant that after loading her overflowing cart full of groceries in her small red Kia she had to move again and return the cart. How she hated doing that! In Darlene’s mind being big, that meant not much movement at all. After getting in the grocery story she headed down the isle full of snacks. Darlene filled her cart up half way with lays chips, Doritos, and corn chips. She really went for tostados along with her favorite mild salsa. She thought to herself “yummy can’t wait to get home to eat you!” She continued her shopping for very little vegetables and or meat. She did manage to get a pack of chicken thighs. Of course that’s the most fatty part of the chicken. To Darlene food was her life, but goodies were even better. After collecting ten bottles of Pepsi pop and strolling through the isles to make sure she didn’t need anything else she entered the check out line. There was young black girl at the register doing the check out. Darlene thought “oh omg, how could they let such filth work at my favorite store.” As the old gray haired lady was done getting her groceries wrung up she inched out slowly as a snail would on his patrol after a nice southern rain. It was Darlene’s turn. She put all of her food on the conveyer belt and the young black girl started to ring up her groceries. As the young black cashier was ringing up Darlene’s groceries she was snickering. Darlene couldn’t believe a black cashier was laughing at her. “I can’t even think what this black bitch is laughing about.” Deep down inside she was glad there was confrontation at least in her mind. She didn’t want to think of the dreaded cart return. Coming to the end of the cart full of groceries, the black cashier said “it will be four-hundred and twelve dollars miss.” Darlene was embarrassed but didn’t show it on her face. As Darlene swiped her debit card the young black cashier was still snickering. Handing Darlene her receipt she looked over at another cashier who happened to be a prissy white girl and continued her snickering. Darlene looked stunned but realized it was all part of society. Especially against big fat people who didn’t return their carts.

She wheeled her overflowing cart full of groceries to her small red Kia. Panting and out of breath she slowly arrived to her car and stopped to breath before loading the groceries in. Looking around she saw a few people, and she thought they were watching her. It wasn’t she was thinking, many people were just loading in their groceries and leaving. After taking nearly twenty-five minutes of loading her groceries in her car she was out of breath again. She stopped and leaned up against her small red Kia to catch her breath. She started to hold her chest as if coming to the grocery store was too much for her. “Well here goes to this disgusting cart return.” Darlene hated going back to return the cart. Returning the cart meant that people could spend time looking at her and her fatness. She really wanted to leave the cart there and go home and eat her Doritos. In an instant Darlene stopped and decided not to return the cart. She left it right there in the middle of the Smith’s grocery store parking lot.

Opening the door the whole song and dance started with her twisting and turning and shoving herself in her car. Just as she closed her door with the cart still beside her small red Kia in the middle of the parking lot, a car pulled up beside her. It was a nice car that no one wanted a scratch on. This car a white BMW 750I and my all means it was clean and brand new. Just as Darlene was beginning to adjust herself someone knocked on her window. It was a young black woman with a professional look and wearing nice tailored clothing. Darlene looked up and let her window down. The lady whose name is also Darlene but they call her D.L. was knocking on her window because the cart that she left hit her car. “Excuse me miss did you leave this cart here?” Darlene looked and thought “why didn’t I return that damn cart?” “Yes, I left it there, but people leave carts in grocery store parking lots all the time.” “Okay well then you will be glad to pay for the scratch on my new car.” “Why should I pay for the scratches on your car, when I didn’t do anything wrong?” “Well you intentionally left the cart in the middle of the parking lot didn’t you?” “Well…I’m not sure.” “Miss you just told me yes, you did leave it in the middle of the parking lot.” Darlene looked stunned and couldn’t believe all this was happening over not returning a cart to the cart return. Darlene sighs and looks at the sophisticated black lady. “Ok Miss…what’s your name?” “My name is Darlene.” Darlene’s eyes widen with surprise. She never thought a black person would have her name. “Okay what can I do?” “Well you can first start by getting out of your car and giving me all of your information.” Darlene with her overweight body managed to do her large song and dance by twisting and turning to get out of her small red Kia. The two Darlene’s exchanged information and as Darlene started to get back in her small red Kia her breathing started to get faster and faster. As she was holding her chest she turned around and looked at D.L. and extended her large hand. Mumbling she managed to ask for help and then clasped. D.L whose name is Darlene took out her iphone and called 911. The ambulance and the cops showed up in the Smith’s grocery store parking lot.

As Darlene was on the ground she started to dream of what else food. It took about an hour to get her four-hundred pound body on the stretcher. She arrived at the hospital and the emergency room team examined her in a panic. Darlene had had a heart attack. While in emergency surgery she dreamt again. This time it was about her wake up call of her life. She was overweight, racist, and lonely. After surgery was over she was wheeled in intensive care. She woke up the following day which was a Sunday and vaguely remembered what happened. She looked around and thought this looks unfamiliar and there’s no smell of food anywhere.

The doctors and came into her room and let her know what had happened to her while at the grocery store. Darlene thought to herself “all this while at Smith’s and for not returning a cart to the cart return.” Just then another doctor came in and she sort of recognized her but her memory was not fully there. As D.L started talking to her, Darlene remembered. “Hello Darlene remember me?” “I think so.” “I am the lady who you let the cart hit my car, and I asked you for your information.” “Okay now I do.” “Well I am Doctor Darlene, but you can call me D.L.” “We just operated on you and saved your life.” “Darlene looked stunned because the thoughts she had of D.L were terrible and racist. “I am so sorry for that cart hitting your car, I didn’t realize…” “That’s fine so many people don’t’ realize until they need help.” You were very lucky this time, but if you don’t change your life there may not be a next time.” Darlene bowed her head in shame, and said “yes doctor you are right, I do need to change my life, but change my attitude as well.” “What do you mean your attitude?” As Darlene started to tell Doctor D.L about her disgusting behavior about food, the doctor also learned about Darlene’s racist behavior. “Well what’s your feeling now, that you have had a wake up call?” “Now I do see the evil side of my ways.” “It’s not because I had a heart attack and survived, but because I was an evil fat, racist, and disgusting person who blamed people for everything, especially black people.” “I am so sorry for being that way!” Darlene’s eyes watered and she burst into a sobbing cry like nothing doctor D.L had seen or heard before. Doctor D.L picked up Darlene’s hand and told her it was going to be fine.

The next couple of days was resting and dealing with her health and her life issues. Darlene decided to work with a nutritionist and seek therapy to work on her issues of anger and fear while in the hospital. Within days it time to go home and continue working on her self and to start fresh. Thinking to her self as she plopped down on her tattered plaid sofa and smiling “that damn cart return, is no joke!”

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Tuesday, December 1, 2009


Shaking, twisting, jiving and just plain moving is body language of Leon. The body language of many tells a story that is like no other. Leon’s body shook and ducked and swirled like it wasn’t going to stop. That’s what you call cracked out body language. Leon was from a town very small set on the east coast. He was born in this town and spent most of his life there jerking and shaking like so many on the streets of Snow hill. Most days Leon would stand around or lay on the wet, dirty, and nasty ground craving a piece of hard white rock. Walking the streets is what he did mostly, begging and jonesing for that fix until he could get one. When Leon couldn’t get his smoke on, his body would shake into a convulsion. It would shake as if it was an earth quake hitting LA. White, green, and brown bubbling vomit would come out of his mouth and his hands would rub his body as if it was on fire. His body would normally burn inside like flesh burning on the stove top. After all that’s what jonesing is right? This was normal for Leon until he got his fix. Mostly he was a loner. Can you believe it, a loner in a small town! He had other friends like Harold, Jim, and David, but their bodies shook so much that it was the end for them. Leon a man of no means in Snow Hill was separated from his family, no friends and no kids. Many women despised him or said “yuck” at the sight of him. As the days of Leon went on his body walked, shook, convulsed and laid still until he got that fix. That fix, that jonesing factor that ropes you in like hot heated sex. Leon’s jonesing was the hard white stuff. His body wouldn’t lie. It was inevitable that Leon would ever see a normal life. His life was the fix and the fix was his life. It was time for Leon’s body to talk to him about his troubles, but Leon didn’t listen. He continued to shake, and convulse like a person having a heart attack. This isn’t the end of the story, because we all know that most people like Leon stick around for quite some time. People like him keep the cracked out body language going as if they have nine lives. For Leon it will come but for now his body keeps jonesing, convulsing, and shaking like it ain’t anything.