Posts Tagged ‘critique’

Lyrically Speaking….Urban Mystic: I Refuse

In Lyrically Speaking on 14 February 2011 at 1:00 am

        I’ll never forget where I was when I first heard this song. I was on the phone with my high school sweetheart after about a year of me not speaking to him. He was back at his old tricks of trying to get me to fall for him all over again. He told me to check out this song, and I had never even heard of the artist, much less the song….but I said that I would. And I did. Loved it. Thought that I should burst out into singing “Killing Me Softly” because Urban Mystic was telling my whole life with his words.

        This song has that high school feel. That, “talking on the phone all night or at least holding the phone as you fall asleep” type feel. This song just oozes the rekindling of an old flame. This is NOT the song you need to play while you are engaged to your future wife ( just saying) lmao!. But it does have that “tug on the heartstrings of hopeless romantics who cant wait to be with their first loves just once more” type feel.

The intro is enough to make you call everyone in your black book and make individual appointments. lol

yo baby (what?s up)
what we had was so special (yea I know)
what you doin now (left my man back at the 9 to 5 just trying to make things work)
Yeah, I never thought I?d see you again (and I never thought I?d see you again)
yeah, (what a coincidence)
well that?s how things happen (yea I know, I wanna have you just one more time)
But you know what (what’s that)
You know what?s odd (what is it)

        Her tone is just begging for him to come and get it. It’s almost as if she planned for them to meet again. Like she searched for him and put herself in a place to be strategically found by him. I’m not mad at her. I would do the same damn thing…lol I mean, how simple is the intro? But this is about as kinky as Teddy Pendergrass talking over a track. It says “Get those panties off… TAKE ‘EM OFF!” lmao.

Verse 1:
What are the odds of me bumping into you again (one in a million)
What are the odds of me seeing my first lover friend (two in a million)
It’s been two years since we both graduated, I still can feel how we both celebrated
I can’t get over your voice on my phone, we’ve been apart for so long.


        This takes me back to that time when you locked eyes with the person that you love after being apart for so long. Or even the thought of them that sends chills down your spine and ends at your happy place. I mean really… they had to have been something special that without even touching you or being in the same room with you they can make you smile and head towards a cold shower.  What are the odds of every person doing that to you? Zero in a million.

So I refuse to wait, my patience is out the door baby
I refuse to hear you say, u don’t want me no more baby
I refuse to blame, you for anything – me for any thing
lets not take finding each other in vain, its not a coincidence baby


        Obviously, all is forgiven or they are just that horny. lol. I mean he is not even wanting to hold a grudge. I mean she has GOT to have kryptonite in her panties to get a man to go out on a limb like this. I’m still having a hard time trying to figure out if this is love or lust, but in the moment of passion I don’t think that it really matters, now does it? lol

Verse 2:
Remember we use to sneak off when your mama dosed off
Hit the back seat of my Chevy fog up the windows
Made love to sweet lady our favorite song
kept it moving slow and steady to the tempo
Then we would lay there and hold on to each other like there wasn’t a tomorrow
I can’t get over your voice on the phone, we’ve been apart for so long


        LMAO!!! See parents….THIS is why you should equip your child with house arrest ankle bracelets! lol.  Teach your girls that leather burn is a hoe’s tattoo…lol. This verse in and of itself just keeps me cracking up! It is so romantic, and so serious, yet hilariously funny because someone , somewhere has done some…if not all..of this at one point in time in their life. And there he is remembering it all years later. See…if you got that Good Good ladies they will always remember. Better yet, he will admit to cuddling!!!!!!! Chorus repeats and then…..

Verse 3

You know, damn well, you’re suppose to be in my life
Riding by my side (Oh yeah yeah)
You know, damn well, you’re suppose to be coming home to me every night

Baby if you’re not that far away
Maybe we can spend the day
Catch up on all the loving we lost
Let me kiss you in your favorite place

        So….. if he doesn’t get what he wants he damn near gets beligerent..lol. YOU KNOW DAMN WELL, WOMAN! All he wants to do is kiss you in your favorite place.  Just KINKY!!! KINKY , I TELL YA! lol.  Yep.. been there. Had the kind of passion where you knew better than to be left alone in the same place with that other person because baby making would surely follow no matter the consequences…. *shakes head at the thought* Sorry, had a flash back…lmao!

        Well, every time I listen to this song I think of what I went through that made this song so relevant to me. I thank the person who decided to bring it to my attention and I will always hold a special place for this song in my heart. Tales like this really do happen in real life….and I am a witness to it. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always turn out to be a love connection….but the memories are a nice reminder of what love can look like. It gives you hope of what is in the future. And if nothing else, it is just nice to know that you are wanted. I refuse to lose hope for love. I simply refuse to.

P.S. I also refuse not to die laughing at the fact that the model who Tyra Banks yelled at is in this video. lmao.

P.P.S. I refuse to fight the urge to call him K-C from Jodeci. lmao!


~*My Mother’s Daughter*~


Lyrically Speaking: India Arie~Talk to Her

In Lyrically Speaking on 7 February 2011 at 12:16 am

        Sitting peacefully in my office, supposedly being productive when Pandora hits me with the gift of Neo-Soul‘s Past; India Arie‘s Talk to Her. I could have jumped up and belted this entire song out loud in my office without caring what anyone thought of me. Yes, this song spoke to my soul and I was prepared to be escorted out of the building by Federal Police. This was truly worth it. I immediately searched for the mp3 on the internet and placed it on repeat. I have a feeling that this CD will be played when I get home and immediately placed on my mp3 player.

        Why the excitement? Well… its India Arie! I can remember how I was first introduced to her and I became hooked and have bought every CD since. Not the iTunes….no, the CD!! I just have faith that every time I buy an India Arie project I will be able to listen to it from start to finish without complaint and that faith is bigger than a mustard seed. And I have to tell you, I have NEVER been disappointed. EVERY project is my favorite. SO much so, I had to stay away from her when she came to Busboys and Poets in DC because I didn’t want to hug her and get arrested like a crazed groupie. I was more than that… I was a supporter. Yes, ever since the day my little hippie friend Erin and her dark brown hair and glasses told me to listen to Brown Skin, I was hooked. Of course I wanted to know what a little white girl knew about Brown Skin, but she told me that her friend in Atlanta heard her and she wondered if I knew. Well… I didn’t and I felt excited that she had told me.

        The very first time that I heard this song I pictured that India Arie was a teacher in a class and the students were all teen black males & females. This song would be the lesson of the day. Essence and Vibe magazines would be the text books on every desk. Lyrics to the song would be written on the board, college lecture style. It would be a modern-day Lean on Me. Yes, I can picture it….or something like it. What if…..

        The video would start off with India Arie walking down a row of desks placing the last of the “text books” on the individual desk  in preparation for the arrival of the students back from lunch and/or recess. While singing she places the last book and then walks to write the topic “Talk to Her” on the chalkboard. A disagreement between a boy and his girlfriend comes into the shot and India walks over to the window.


When you talk to her talk to her
Like you want somebody to talk to you mama
Don’t get smart with her have a heart to heart with her
Just like you would with your daughter
Cause everything you do or say
You gotta live with it everyday
She’s somebody’s baby
She’s somebody’s sista
She’s somebody’s mama

        When she gets to the window and raises the window up even higher and sticks her head outside. The girlfriend storms away crying and India grabs the arm of the boy and sings the first verse to him.

Verse 1
Now when you got to her speak truthfully
Be honest as you can be, from your heart
You’re in a situation, where ya losing patience
Take your time and look her in the eye
When you just can’t find the words you want
And it’s hard to reach the point
Where you both can understand
Don’t just tell the truth
But,Tell the whole truth
It’ll make a better man outta you

        She gently touches his face and closes the window. Then in the background you see girls jumping rope and they become the background singers for this part. The guy apologizes and they make up.  The Bell rings and everyone heads into the school towards the end of the chorus.


When you talk to her, talk to her
Like you want somebody to talk to your mama
Don’t get smart with her have a heart to heart
With her just like you would with your daughter
Cause everything you do or say
You gotta live with it everyday
She’s somebody’s baby
She’s somebody’s sista
She’s somebody’s mama

        Scene switches to India Arie walking down the school halls. Girls wearing short skirts can be seen with guys whistling and attempting to pull up their dresses. India jumps in to correct the situation….. Words are spoken to both the boys and the girls to prove her point.

Verse 2:

It doesn’t matter if she’s wearin
A mini skirt or a business suit
Whether she’s 25 or 99
Treat her the way your mama taught you to
She could be the Queen of Sheba
She could be a school teacher
Home maker or a lawyer
I think it’s good for your Karma
If when ya talk to her…

        Female teachers open class doors to join in ask the chorus is being sung. They usher the students into the classrooms leaving India in the halls by herself.


When you talk to her, talk to her
Like you want somebody to talk to your mama
Don’t get smart with her have a heart to heart
With her just like you would with your daughter
Cause everything you do or say
You gotta live with it everyday
She’s somebody’s baby
She’s somebody’s sista
She’s somebody’s mama

        India can be seen walking past a boys’ and girl’s restroom and them comes to a stop underneath a clock with hands that are speeding up the time of day and to suggest that times are changing.  She continues to walk towards the auditorium.

Verse 3
Now let’s keep it real
Nothing in this world could ever exist
Without it’s opposite
There has to be a sun and moon
A man and a woman
And that’s just the way it is
Humanity’s lop sided
And everyone’s fightin’
How do we restore the peace
Mother earth is hurtin’
And everyone is searchin’
For the feminine energy

        The doors of the auditorium open to the students being adult men and women. India goes and takes her place standing in her place as a teacher, much like that scene in Lean On Me where the teachers stood in the isle. She has an envelope in hand.


When you talk to her talk to her
Like you want somebody else to talk to your mama (Watch your mouth, yeah yeah)
Don’t get smart with her have a heart to heart
With her just like you would with your daughter
Cause everything you do or say
You gotta live with it everyday
She’s somebody’s baby
She’s somebody’s sista
She’s somebody’s mama

        The camera would pan over the “students” matching each line of the Vamp. A brother stands up to fight when a guy says something to his sister, you see usual teen behavior at an assembly; paper throwing, joking, etc.


When you talk to her talk to her
Like you want somebody to talk to your mama
Just like you fight for your sister
If you knew that somebody dissed her
How you gonna care for your daughter
Turn around and talk bad about her mama
Same way you listen to your auntie
Never interrupt while she speaks
Make your words sweet like candy
As if you were talking to your granny yeah

        The male principal is on stage speaking as he looks up and locks eyes with India. He smiles, continues the speech to the “students”. This would even be an amazing time to have cameos from the Lean On Me cast…lol

If you really love her then (say so)
If you really need her then (say so)
Love the way she thinks (say so)
You love the way she speaks (say so)
When you need some good conversation (say so)
Say so (say so)
If you want her in your life (say so)
You want her to be your wife (say so)
Tell her she’s your best friend (say so) (alright)
You’ll be there to the end (alright)(say so)

        Camera pans in on India looking at the envelope in her hand which is suggested to have been a resignation letter and she tears it in half.  Principal dismisses the students and seen goes to everyone filing out of the auditorium and leaving the school building. One of the other female teachers playfully hits her as she walks to the curb.

If you’re thinking about leaving (say so)
If you wonder where she’s going (say so)
If you need to breathe with her (say so)
You just want to be with her (say so)
If you love her hair (say so)
If you want her there (say so)
Tell me if you really want her (say so)
You wanna slap her down (say so)
Say so…
(You better not hit no woman, you done bumped yo’ head)
If you feel like loving (say so)
If you wanna feel the hugging (say so)

        A car pulls up and in the driver seat is a man who she leans in and kisses on the cheek and the car pulls off.

        Yeh…. that’s exactly how I pictured it. But who am I…. just a borderline obsessed fan.. and I mean that in the MOST respectful, “no restraining order needed” kind of way. I think that India, in all of her beauty, both vocally and physically would make my vision so beautiful. But she needs no help in that department. I pray she is as strong and direct and humble as I perceive her to be. I see God in her….And that is all that I have to say about that. Enjoy!

P.S.~ Check out my other post called 200 Men Said…. Oedipus’ Words. It is apart of my 200 Men Said…. series where I asked the men if they’ve ever said something to a woman that they wouldn’t want anyone to say to their mother. The answers will surprise you.


~*My Mother’s Daughter*

The Game:Episode 2

In Take 2: Film/TV Reviews on 19 January 2011 at 7:29 am

They’re baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! So, if you were under a rock and need someone to fill you in on what happened on the long-awaited comeback of The Game, here is what happened:

Recap: We pick up with the gang after a two-year gap, and what a gap it is. Derwin is now married to Melanie ( Dr. Melanie, although she is not practicing medicine) and father to DJ (Janay’s son). Melanie gives DJ a paternity test, tells Derwin he’s not the father, later to find out it was a mistake and he is indeed the father. Melanie has already told Derwin he is not but doesn’t correct the mistake. Malik is being a super ass and jealous of Derwin being the face of the Sabers and Nike, while sleeping with the wife of the Saber’s owner and T-T’s girl. T-T is no longer his assistant and actually has an opinion these days. Speaking of opinionated, Tasha is no longer with Rick Fox (WTF), and is now freaking down Terrance J of 106 & Park ( EWWWWW I saw him half-naked *threw up a lil in my mouth* I can take him seriously as long as he keeps his clothes on). While Tasha is busy gettin her groove back, judging Melanie, and dodging another ass whooping by Kelly, Kelly is busy with her reality TV show. Kelly is busy over acting and becoming a caricature that is driving me up the wall. Jason Pitts is the only one who seems to still be himself, and I love that. He takes back the power from Kelly at the end of the episode by interfering with Kelly’s reality show.And somewhere along the line their daughter Brit Brat got swapped  So, yes, it did take an hour for all of this to occur and I had mix feelings about it. Check out my blog : The Game: Don’t Call It A Comeback Pt2.

Now, that we have caught up… tonight I think we are all in for a surprise. We have already proven that what we were expecting is not going to happen, so they can either give us what we are used to or not, either way we will definitely be surprised. Show starts in 5, 4, 3, 2, GAME ON, BITCHES!!!!

I simply love how Tasha Mack has opened both episodes, but if there is one more episode of Tasha Mack being afraid of Kelly Pits…. I’m boycotting the show. That aint Tasha Mack!!!! She may talk shit but she definitely wont run from shit! Dont make me remind you all who Tasha Mack is!!! Dont make me go to my trunk! I haven’t heard a ‘nan “pow pow”. Okay, it just started…. I’m going to be quiet until the end and try not to give my review during the show. (No promises, may write during commercials).

I SPOKE TOO SOON!!! SHE THREATENED TO SHOOT HER!!! THE GODS HEARD MY CRY!!!! Wait… did they just strip?!  Or am I watching BET Uncut with Tasha’s ashy titties? I’m sorry… black people don’t strip like this without money in the immediate surroundings. But…. whatever will make the scene work. I think that they got back too quickly after being mad at each other for two years. I’m so lost! Lord I am so lost! The acting is almost back to normal….but the jury is still out.

Wait #2! Did Melanie just blurt out about the paternity test’s true results only because Janay was on the other side of the door. Like I said, if I were a writer, I would have told Derwin to get a second opinion because it could be due to human error. It would also cover up the fact that the friend messed up. But who am I but a fan who wants this to survive its resurrection? I also don’t think that Jason would have spoken so poorly of Derwin and Malik. What was the point….did they stop being friends in two years? I’m so lost! See THESE are the things that we need to be caught up on instead of all this BS that is 2 years too late.

Wait #3!!! Is Jason remixing the Dip & Pitts? LMAO!!!!!!!!! Funny thing is… can I get a copy of those leftover CDs? I really want to be among the first to pop out with the Dip & Pitts in the club. True shit! Dip & Pitts, and Pitts and Pitts and Pitts. I wonder who can I petition to get a copy of that song… I am soooo not playing, I want it. And where did Mr. Half & Half get rhythm from?

Okay, so… the Old Malik showed up and somewhat saved the say. it was good to see him show up and finally speak a glimpse of common sense. This is the Malik that I missed in the first episode. And while I am thinking it, why are Tasha Mack and Malik not talking to each other so far this season? I mean… not even in the club scene last episode did they speak and they were inches away.

The ending with Derwin forgiving Melanie…. I buy it. Unexpected and yet I am happy that it took som edge off this high drama that we are not used to…. HOLD UP!!!!! Aka WAIT#4, the sneak peek for next week. WHO IS THIS BITCH WITH HER BOOTY IN DERWIN’S FACE!!!!? BEAT HER DOWN MELANIE! Okay, the marketing team can stay employed……yall have me hooked and anxious for next week. Okay….I’m still a fan.

P.S. They’re on Mo’Nique’s show tonight too. And I’m watching while I should be in bed…. but anything for the cast of The Game. My only question is… was Brittany Daniel (Kelly Pitts) not invited because she’s white? Just kidding. They just said its because her nephew was being baptised. See….. I was concerned. Okay, but why is Coby on here like its a family reunion? I love Wendy’s dress!!! Work it! Funny How Pooch even says “That’s what’s up” outside of the show. lol. Wait….. they film in ATL? I’m moving back home!!!!! And yes… Hosea Chanchez is from ALABAMA LIKE ME!!! ALABAMA STAND UP! We’re a talented bunch. DAMN!! The Kontrol cover of Pooch! I have no clue what that magazine is for but I need a copy! Okay… I will stop drooling now. I will leave this for you all to enjoy.


~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

Let’s Stay Together…or NOT!

In Take 2: Film/TV Reviews on 13 January 2011 at 1:19 am


         I WILL NOT CALL THIS COONERY!!! I WILL NOT CALL THIS COONERY!!! Okay, I lied… what the hell was up with this coonery? I’m blown. The commercials hyped it up so much and I was highly disappointed. I think that the characters need to pull out one of Palin’s guns and aim them directly at the writing department. Then turn them on themselves.

        Character development: First off, it was hard for me to remember who the married couple was and who the engaged couple was. Right off the bat the engaged chick is walking from another room talking about how good the sex her and her fully dressed fiance just had… I think…moments before. Umm, 1. What were you doing coming from another room dancing? 2. You used the Kamasutra book, right? 3. It couldn’t have been that good if you both were dressed and you were able to use both legs willingly to dance in from another room. Woman, you should have been knocked out and discussing what happened LAST night when you woke up the next morning. Secondly…..Can we have a couple on modern TV that is yet to get married who has NOT moved in with one another? Am I too archaic with this thought process? I honestly thought I was watching two married couples thinking what the hell was the sister doing there.

        Writing: Ummmmm, the jury is still out on whether or not I can classify this as writing. Refer back to character development. Is it a curse to properly establish who the hell I’m watching before bombarding me with this horrible malay of word choices and scenarios. What does the husband do again that he has to work at night, can wear a suit, and can take off when he feels like it because he wants to pursue his lounge act?  And the sister….no. I don’t care HOW GHETTO they wanted to make her, aint no way in hell you can get a sister to rat out her brother to his fiancée!!! Aint no way! That was a perfect opportunity for the married sister, Tasha ( I ONLY remember because The Game just went off and Tasha Mack is my girl…but can we pick some other African Names?) …shit.. lost my train of thought. Oh.. that was a perfect opportunity for Tasha to have a scene at the house trying to figure out what the ghetto sister wouldn’t tell her about the ring. Everything was redundant and obvious. I also don’t know any BLACK man who would be so calm about his girl turning in a ring he gave her under ANY circumstance. I think the writing doesn’t match the comedic acting choices. The writing is too serious for the light-hearted movement and tones that the actors are using.

Acting: Hmmmm… the cast. I still don’t know if I can say that this was a good fit. I am, however, just happy and counting my blessing that different actors are employed in Hollywood. But other than that….WTF! As a person who has degrees in Theatre, it was like punching me in the face with all of this mockery of my art. The lounge scene was so over the top that I swear I saw Jesus chilling in the background. There was a way to be genuine with that scene and still suck. Like if they thought they were good but really sucked it would have been more believable. Like I said, the writing didn’t match the acting choices. Other than Tasha, I don’t remember anyone’s names…but I do remember the engaged female is a doctor only because of the threat she gave. And the single sister…. please take away her accent. Please!

Overall Opinion: This show has a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG way to go to grab our attention. I think that they may have lost some of The Game’s residual following with this horrible opening. I don’t even know how you could come back from this since everything is all ready filmed. This is evident in the fact that The Game was the buzz topic last night and everyone went silent as Let’s Stay Together came on. I’m gonna pledge now to give it 4 Episodes of faith before I rip into it like a rapist to a jogger dumb enough to run in the dark at 4am.

DOnt want to use your own email? Use 2deepuncensored@gmail.com to leave a comment!


~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

Lyrically Speaking: Waka Flocka-No Hands

In Lyrically Speaking on 16 November 2010 at 12:01 pm

Second Edition

        Like Waka Flocka at all of his paid performances, I am at a loss for words. I mean, I will make an honest attempt to give some form of props in the middle of this mess….but no promises.

        Waka Flaka’s No Hands is a very trendy and catchy beat and chorus that has teens from DC to Japan screaming “Look ma, no hands” and even though I have been guilty of bobbing to it in my own house and subconsciously learning the lyrics thanks to constant rotation on the radio, I wouldn’t want anyone else learning it. Hypocrite? Yes, and rightfully so. I’m old enough to know what the lyrics of the song mean. I wish I could sit a class down and deconstruct these lyrics. It’s the teen group that I want to stop from bobbing to this, because the girls are the first ones to jump up and prove to the boys that they are the best “No Hands” chick in the building, and the boys continue to think that treating these girls as such is what the girls want because they aren’t showing them otherwise.

        I remember when Hip-Hop use to make us think, you to get you amped up to do something, but now this rap stuff is for no other use than to degrade and get your head bobbing in the club. Being, indirectly, from the south you would think that I was proud of the south’s musical (lack of) achievements. I mean, the Stanky Leg and No Hands should be enough to make me rep’ my city….right? Not so much. Okay…enough of my banter… lets look at these lyrics. The same lyrics that get bleeped out on the radio and make it sound just a little bit cleaner than what it was ever intended to be……those edited lyrics are WAY better than what is said.


Girl the way you’re movin’
Got me in a trance
DJ turn me up
Ladies dis yo jam
I’ma sip Moscato
And you ‘gon lose dem pants
Then I’ma throw this money
While you do it with no hands
Girl drop it to the flo’
I love the way yo booty go
All I want to do is sit back
And watch you move
And I’ll proceed to throw this cash


        Fiiiiiiiirst off! Roscoe has a daughter. I keep trying to tell people how this whole ” I will corrupt your sons and daughters while I protect my own seed” mentality is a bunch of bullshit! Some lil boy is going to grow up thinking that this is how to treat a woman, therefore making his daughter’s chances of finding a decent man who doesn’t want her just for her money slim to impossible!!! I can’t shout this enough. So he is telling you that this is your song & you’ve got to take your pants off BEFORE he’ll give you any money. Okay… on to the king of stupidity.

Verse 1:

Waka;Verse 1:]
(Waka, Waka, Waka, Flocka, Whoa, Whoa)
All that ass
In yo jeans
Can Wale beat
Can Roscoe skeet
Long hair she don’t care
When she walk she get stares
Brown skin or a yellow-bone
DJ this my favorite song
So I’ma make it thunderstorm
Bud, want it, Flocka, yea
Blowin’ ,fuck it, i dont care
Chests’ flyin’ everywhere
Got my partner Roscoe, like bruh
I’m drinkin’, help, can’t you tell
Booze help me hit them 15 steps
I’m fuckin’, well i’m tryna hit the hotel
With 2 girls that swallow me
Take this dick while swallow
Pay moscato got her freaky
Aye you got me in a trance
Please take off yo pants
Pussy pop on her handstand
You got me sweatin’
Please pass me a fan damn!

        After the “Shawt Bus Shawty intro……(Waka Waka Waka Waka). Ummmm…. So, he doesn’t even want to sleep with you. He just wants to ask if his boy can beat it and then can his OTHER boy skeet it? Classy! I mean…this should have all the girls out on the dance floor dancing like coons, booty tooted up in the air! And one wants to beat it…..sooooo is the other sitting in the corner holding his skeet? Or is he beating himself while the other beats and then they tag team WWE style while one now skeets on her and the other contains his skeet because that wasnt apart of the contractual agreement? Okay… I thought too much into that, but why say it if it doesn’t make any logical sense? So…further in the verse you are only good enough to suck him off because he doesn’t think you’re quite fuckable material because you might get pregnant and he doesn’t want that. And the first southern grammatical stab is “Chests'” ….pronounced by Waka as “Chest-is” LMAO!!! You showl is edjumikated. And I think he had a bout with schizophrenia in the middle when we asked himself if he wanted bud…and then answered himself. But….next!

After a flare of the chorus again……..

Verse 2:

[Wale;Verse 2:]
(Aye, aye, Wale, uh)
She said look ma no hands
She said look ma no hands
And no darling I don’t dance
And, I’m with Roscoe, I’m with Waka
I think i deserve a chance
I’m a bad mothafucka
Gon’ ask some mothafuckas
A young handsome mothafucka
I sling that wood
I just nun chuck ’em
And, who you wit
And, what’s yo name
And, you not hear boo, I’m Wale
And, that D.C. shit I rep all day
And, my eyes red cuz of all that haze
Don’t blow my high
Let me shine
Drumma on the beat
Let me take my time
Nigga want beef we can take it outside
Fight for what broad
These hoes ain’t mine
Is you out yo mind
You out yo league
I sweat no bitches
Just sweat out weaves
Where our tracks
Let me do my thing
I got 16, for this Roscoe thing
But, i’m almost done
Let me get back to it
Whole lotta loud
And a little backwood
Whole lotta money
Big tip I would
I put her on the train
Little engine could, bitch


        I know this is just a song, but she was proud enough to show her mother how she does it without hands? I wish I would!!! My mother would hop up from the grave and pimp slap me with the withering hang of my ancestors if I EVER did that in front of her. I’m still afraid to do stuff in my own house in fear that her spirit can see… & I am grown! lol. Nunchucks are weapons…..domestic violence is not cute metaphorically or literally….NEXT! Ummm what the fuck does “You not hear” mean? Is that suppose to be “you can’t hear” or “havent you heard” or am I bugging? Nope, not bugging… he did graduate from PG County public schools. I know… I live here…lmao! And just in case you thought that he would protect your honor after you gave up the ass…. think again! You hoes arent his! lol And just when you wanted frequent flier miles… he plans on straight up Amtraking your ass…..am I making my point?

And last but definitely not least:

Verse 3:

[Roscoe;Verse 3:]
(Roscoe Dash, let’s go)
R-O-S-C-O-E-Mr. shawty put it on me
I be goin’ ham
Shawty upgrade from baloney
Them niggas tippin’ good
Girl but I can make it flood
Cuz I walk around
With pockets bigger that are than my bus
Rain, rain go away
That’s what all my haters say
My pockets stuck on overload
My reign never evaporates
No need to eleborate
Most of these ducks exaggerate
But, i’ma get money nigga
Everyday stuntin’ nigga
Ducks might get a chance after me
Bitch i’m ballin’
Like i’m comin’ off of free throws
Cuz the head of the game
No cheat codes
Lambo, Roscoe
No street code
And your booty got me lost like Nemo
Go, go, go
G-gon’ and do yo dance
And, i’ma throw this money
While you do it wit no hands


        My hoe has a first name its, Y-O-U-S-A; my hoe has a  last name, its B-I-T-C-H! lol. SO between ham and bologna, he only deals with basic bitches. No steak, no filet mignon, hell….not even turkey? This is a classy negro ladies… he will spend the best on his bitches! And I think that he happens to have a fetish with Ducks…..dont go to Disney World and leave him alone with Donald. Trust me…..the water metaphors are freaking me out. And he might not even really like women because he really only talked about himself through the whole verse. Was this to redeem himself for even being apart of this fucked up coonery in the first place? At least he spoke the best English in the song. COONSTATSTIC!

        I tried to find some praise in there… this is how I really feel about this song. Bounce if you must….but this is just HORRIBLE! Okay.. I’m done. Until I get some liquid courage in my system at a private house party and I begin to jam to this. What? I wanna do it with no hands…I’ve been practicing Yoga. lol

Double Negative Error Count

R&B: -6      Rap: -2



~*My Mother’s Daughter*~


Colored Girl vs For Colored Girls:A Review-Part 2

In Take 2: Film/TV Reviews on 9 November 2010 at 12:43 pm




 Please ready Review Part 1  FIRST before reading this. Click HERE. Thanks!

7 Nov 10

          This morning I woke up to pitch black darkness surrounding me in my bedroom as my conscience pulled me out of a nightmare, a nightmare where I envisioned my college friend who had been out drinking with all of us and I allowed one of our guy friends to drive her home. I mean, this was the south, stuff like that doesnt happen in the south, right? He was a friend of all of ours and had been for years so I didnt feel like there was anything to worry about. But fear struck my core when she told me that he fell asleep in her bed next to her, undressed.  Friend or no friend, fear can shake a girl that way. She was intoxicated and had nothing to go on but his word that nothing happened. But she would never be the same after that, and the thought of him being in the house while she was passed out shook me to my core and stalked me in my sleep years later. This was one of the realities that I took home with me after watching For Colored Girls. There were so many eye-opening moments, but that one hit home the best like, like…….. like an abusive boyfriend with fists of steel coming with the strength of hurricane Katrina. For Colored Girls had done something to me that was unexpected; it made me rethink what it meant to be a Colored Girl TODAY and not remain the colored girl of 1997 when I first picked up the book and rose to success without accepting or issuing any apologies. What kind of Colored girl was I today? And what kind of audience needed For Colored Girls: the movie?

          Walking into Potomac Yards’ Regal Theater at 4pm ,directly after work,  was like me rushing to see Deep Throat; no one was supposed to like it but it was the IT thing to do of the day. The crowd of women rocking one dominate color or another was a secret sign to those of us who had knowingly been Colored Girls for years, that we were here to stake claim to something that had been ours for decades, some longer than others, but ours just the same. I found myself sitting dead center in the upper rows next to a mature woman rocking a powder blue beret and matching sweater who was as poised as she wanted to be. And as I looked around the room I saw colors that weren’t apart of our Colored Girl sisterhood and I just assumed that they were the Neos begging to find out what our sisterhood was all about, but I didn’t have the courage to tell them that this may be a hazing of sorts rather than the traditional induction expected by Nationals. Besides, I would have sounded crazy to a woman who just wanted to come and see a movie, like my co-worker who didn’t even know it was a book or a play before she saw my book placed on my desk earlier that day. The 15 minutes of previews was not enough time for me to fill these women in, and so I sat back quietly with my Icee and held my judgment close as the lights went dim.

          As a person who has her Masters Degree in Theatre Arts, me watching a movie is like doing the job of the Continuous ( the person who gets paid to make sure that every time they do a retake the glass is filled to the same level and a purse is on the same shoulder…..notices all errors so the shot looks continuous) instead I am doing it for free. And even though there is no stage, I am still sitting against the fourth wall begging the movie to suspend my moment of disbelief, to pull me in. Immediately, as the movie began, the violinist sitting upon the piano, leg crossed, toes pointed inches away from the pianist’s face drew my disbelief’s attention clear into the room. Who does that in real life? I immediately was aware again that this was a movie and some of the creative effects were going to be there, rather than make this as real as possible, or at least that was my initial fear. Anika Noni Rose, supposedly assigned Lady in Yellow, but performing Lady in Brown’s poem, opens up with a beautiful dance that draws us all in, but this collage of voices that jack-up the opening make it hard to understand if the women are saying the same thing or different things, and all of it gets lost in the surround sound as jumbled mess before the last line if cursively scribbled across the screen. I think that it was a unneccesary dramatic effect, or improperly executed effect. Allowing each woman to speak was clean and would have been enough. But that wouldn’t be the last thing I had wrong with this movie.

          The introduction of characters was another area that jolted my senses. In the play, they were just colored girls retelling stories, some theirs and some of the people they knew, but you were never quiet sure. Half the time it felt like they were telling your story but changed the name to protect the not so innocent. SO as soon as Kerry Washington gives Kimberly Elise the name of Crystal, she no longer becomes a color to me. She becomes the woman in the poem with a face, with a figure, and a name. It takes away some of my emotion because I now have someone to judge, someone to stare at and say…honey, you don’t have to live in this situation, rather than wonder who tried to help her. And as much as I tried, Kerry’s interaction with Michael Ealy the first time was so unbelievable. Maybe there are guys who hit female strangers, but I would think that he would have taken the stereotypical stance that all abusive men took; subtly. He would have held in all that rage until after she left so that nothing would seem out of the ordinary. Because if he indeed hit her, she would have called the cops for hitting a city employee and not just left some damn voicemail. Then BAM! Phylicia began a portion of the Beau Willie poem, so was she Lady in Red? It felt like a great place to put it, but then it dawned on me….. THE POEMS WERE INCOMPLETE AND OUT OF ORDER!!!! This was no longer For Colored Girls Who Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Was Enuf, this was like Passion of the Christ versus Jesus Christ, Super Star! Okay, Okay…. I get it now. He may have used the foundation of my Bible, but he remixed the order of the scripture…..it was okay. My own Bishop doesn’t read the Bible in the same order every Sunday, but I get the same message. I could relax….almost.

          In comes Loretta Divine, OBVIOUSLY the Lady in Green, but why in the HELL was she doing the Lady in Red’s “water it your damn self” poem? Confused. So, people weren’t keeping their own poems either? Okay, so this went from Passion of the Christ, to Jesus Christ Super Star to Mel Gibson yelling anti-Semitic phrases on a freeway. I couldn’t understand. Each Colored Girl had her own traits, why were they being mixed around? And for the life of me…..who in the hell casted Tessa Thompson? While doing the Lady in Yellow’s graduation poem in a purple leotard ( Thought I wouldn’t notice,huh?) she destroyed everything I am still paying student loans off of for was based on. She rambled through that piece just to hear herself speak. There were no revelations, no pauses,  no tone fluctuations to suggest a change in who she was, and it was too damn sing-songy.  I could hear Shakespeare clawing at the dirt in an attempt to get to her trailer to recite “Bitch, speak the speech I pray you as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines“. And I don’t know that many girls who would tell how they lost their virginity to a class full of females. I just think that her execution could have been better. Just like I wondered why was Whoopi in the film? The ONE poem that she received was mumbled in with that of Thandie Newton’s and very inaudible. It was as if some theatrical effect went wrong and had a wardrobe malfunction in the middle of Super Bowl and no one was willing to apologize for it. That poem deserved its own light as well, they both did. They both were of equal importance. I spent half the time trying to hear Whoopi’s poem and drown out Thandi’s, who was supposed to be the Lady in Orange…signified by her double-sided taped orange robe. I felt as if I lost something there that I can’t get back. And the close up of Whoopi saying, “He said I was ugly” sucked all seriousness out of the theater as we all laughed at an aged Ceily and imagining Sug pointing her long, bony finger in her face, because this scene “Shol was ugly”. But maybe, and this could be a stretch, maybe Whoopi became the symbolic precense of all of us who know the play,have strayed from it and the minute your faults have been thrown in your face you run back to the old play and claim to hold it sacred. I say this from the rounds of critique’s I’ve seen on the internet. Are we the mothers of this movement dressed in all white wearing dirty draws full of our bullshit that we want no one else to see? So many women, self included, claim that the purpose of the play means so many things to them, but most importantly that they can change and rise above those things….only to refuse change the moment they heard this movie was coming out. Are we the theatrical cult mothers baptizing the new generation with honey and ash to convert them back to colored ballerinas in jazz shoes the moment that we see them engaging in the activities that For Colored Girls once saved us from all those years ago? Are we the ones wishing them well but leaving the theater abruptly because this new adaptation is ” the devil’s music“? Just a thought.

          With the whole Beau Willie poem, and Crystal…. I think that Kimberly Elise did a good job. I still couldn’t take my mind away from the Lynn Whitfied & Oprah scene in Brewster Place where Oprah tells her to breathe after the loss of her baby. I can’t remember if I cried during that scene. I teared up more with her scrubbing the blood off of the sidewalk. That graphic brought home that I was judging and made me think of someone very close to me and her two children and the men she has chosen to love. It brought fear in my heart, since I knew that no one but my personal Crystal could choose to help herself once she decided to take responsibility for her part in such an abusive situation. I couldn’t save her. And that stung.

        The men…..outside of me visualizing Maino (Khalil Kain, who has gained some weight) raping Anika….the other guys really just floated to the back of my memory. That rape scene was the most graphic I think I’ve seen Tyler get since Medea Goes to Jail with the guy on top of Keisha Knight Pulliam. The clock was dramatic, but I caught myself laughing at the fact that at least he was a 2 minute brother. I had to detach for my own mental safety.  If anything I wanted to blame the guy and not Anika for letting a guy into her house on the second date. Those damn guys!!!! They were there….but they weren’t there. It was never about them. I still question their having been there in the first place. Loretta Divine’s speech to the door was powerful because no man was there. I think that the men could have very well been abstractly there. I think that would have been more powerful than me hurting my eyes trying to squint to see a private part or two of the hot ass guy butt naked behind some beads in Thandi’s house. But…it is what it is.

          I finally figured out why Janet was dressed in Red….she was supposedly the Lady in Red, all be it imposing that she delivered the Lady in Blue’s speech. Sorry Kerry…she stole your poem. Also, the big reveal of her marital situation…. I WISH I WOULD sit on a bed all calm delivering some kind of poem to the back of my Down Low husband’s head after receiving the news that I received. THAT SHIT WAS SO UNPLAUSIBLE!!!! ARE YOU SERIOUS!!! She should have reached back into her acting bag from Why Did I Get Married, Too and imagined that he was coming in her house trying to take her stuff again. THIS is where she should have lost her damn mind!!! And then she went to a damn party!!!! Oh, somebody was smoking crack when this part of the script came to be. Sorry, Janet baby…I don’t blame you because you were allowed to do it….but it didn’t fly with me. You behaving like Cruella Deville was a nice surprise, but not much else. Okay, I take that back, your change around and revelation was nice as well. But the message that was sent with her being all calm was such the wrong message to send to colored girls. We didn’t see her break down over her health, but we saw her break down over her assistant’s children? We didn’t see her break her composure over the discovery of his lies, over the uncertainty of what was ahead? There should have been something a little more believable here…..but it was that “ONE YEAR LATER” jump that we were suppose to guess what happened. Tyler should stick to a 48hr window period of  believability because things get left out.

          I personally think that with 9 women being housed in a 7 woman script there were some things that were going to get left out. I think that Kerry’s character could have been combined with that of Whoopi’s and Phylicia’s. She could have still been the social worker who was a hypocrite and preying on everyone else’s business. And she could have still been Nyla (Tessa) and Thandi’s (Thandi) ….am I the only one who noticed that Thandi kept her own name in the movie, or was it Tangi?……mother. I think that Loretta should have been Lady in Red and Janet Lady in Green…for the most part. But with the mixture of parts, its hard to tell who should have been what. I just think that the backdrop for these women were not quiet right for this play. Maybe it should have been a Girlfriend’s kind of setting where Joan comes in and tells about the people she works with, or a few of Maya’s “Oh Hell Nawls”, and Lynn’s inability to see the world as it is to make us all wonder just where in the hell did Toni go. It would have made us, or at least me, believe half of the movie. I would have been able to believe that there were people out there who stuff like this happened to with it being told over cocktails in an upscale bar. Hell….they could have even turned it into a play about poets living out their lives on stage in poems, and that would have helped with the cadence of some of the poetical lines that most people would never say in regular conversation or description. But this is all…..should’ve, could’ve, would’ves.

          After getting over the whole Women of Brewster’s Place vibe, I did walk away with two or three bells of personal wisdom; Anika Noni Rose & Phylicia Rashad. Anika Noni Rose should definitely get an award, a certificate, or a cover for her scene in the hospital. I cried. I sat there and internalized every thing she said because the scene was done beautifully. Having been assaulted by a member of my own family, I understood and I agreed. It made me take notice of the numerous times I dated a guy and he kept trying to have sex with me when the answer “No” never wavered. It made me wonder if we weren’t surrounded by other people, or if I hadnt driven myself home…what would have happened. Or I think back to the times of having my hands pinned down after I try to push him off of me and his refusing to stop. Do you press charges when someone refuses to stop, no matter how far you initially intended to go? Are you not allowed to change your mind when you no longer feel comfortable? After he is already in your house? I already dont let many people, male or female, into my house…but who am I really allowing into my space. And just because I gave him a kiss, was seen in public with him, or hugged him….does that send him a signal that more could be in store? I was frightened. It was a good frightening, it was a frightening of awareness. That was an awareness that I never took home with the play.  Just like, I heard Phylicia speaking to Thandi…..I have some things that I need to “pluck out at the root”. And I was Thandi sitting on the table facing her baby sister trying to explain to her that I didn’t hate her and never had. No one had ever taught me how to love myself so I didn’t know how to love her. It was as if it was me saying ” being a colored girl is a metaphysical dilemma that I aint got quite good at yet” into the eyes of a sister who wasnt willing to see me try. I was Thandi accepting her reason for needing $300 and going to pay it to find out that it was all a lie. I’m not perfect, and I can’t go back, but I will not stand around and take the blame for the actions of a person I don’t know any more. I just dont know how to get my life to play out as beautifully as their scene. But I’ll keep praying. It was these amazing women who spoke to me the most. But I was still Thandi’s character, running from being touched through continuous touching. I was Tessa’s character, having been pregnant and having had an abortion at the age of 20. I was Phylicia, being in everyone’s business wanting to help solve their problems and my help not being welcomed. I was Janet, being a powerhouse and people not respecting that,and sometimes abusing that power. I was Kerry, wondering would I ever be able to have a child with a man who I loved and who loved me back after a guy who had seemingly destroyed my world. I was Kimberly, staying in situations that would never benefit me but never having the strength to leave. I was Whoopi, tugging between hypocrisy and the hypocrite. And I was Loretta, not knowing that I could love myself more than any man could make me believe that he could.  I walked out of that theater feeling like I was still a Colored Girl. This movie didn’t confirm it, I knew it all along, and I was okay with letting another generation find their way back to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. This movie wasnt taking anything from me…it was to remind me what I had, and I had it….but I expressed it through pre-judgment and an unwillingness to accept change. Indirectly, through all of its mistakes, this film, too, was a Colored Girl that needed to find its way…and it doesn’t need to apologize for its mistakes. It just needs to exist and touch those who can be touched by it. But just for dramatic effects it should scream to the mountain of complainers on critic sites and twitter, “Shut up bitch, I said I was sorry” just to prove a point that it wasnt trying to live up to their high ass expectations in the first place. Nothing can ever be an original, but the original. And this was no Ntozake Shange, but it was a Tyler Perry. Like it or not….it exists. And I took something away from it.

          And as I pulled into my house and plugged in my dead cell phone, it began to buzz like a pack of bees at a honeycomb. I check my text messages…and low and behold there is a text from the guy I cut it off with last week. His text read:

MRH: Afternoon! I know I haven’t talk with you n a couple of days, but I was down south. I would like to see you tonight an hold an talkk to you if not I got ya

I swear my life matches up better than most. His improper grammar taunted me and my intellectual capacity to understand how he just refused to put a “d” on the end of “an” when needed. I stared at the implied “Bitch, you’re stupid” tattooed to the tail end of his reason for not calling, as if the South has yet to discover phones. Here I was trying to figure out if I as the Lady in Green or the Lady in Red, and then I thought “What the hell” I became greedy and became both. You see, “ever since I realized there was someone called a colored girl, an evil woman, a bitch or a nag….. I’ve been trying not to be that” but moments like this just push my buttons and test my commitments to myself. But I was a Colored Girl….and I was better than anything he could ever do to me. And so I replied:


I just got back in the house and about to head back out. I really don’t see us EVER hanging out again. Just from the lack of respect you showed me BEFORE you went down south. But I wish you the best & early congrats on graduation. May God cover you in his favor. Goodbye!

          There it was….. mission accomplished and Colored Girl approved. I could hear the women high-fiving me in my spirit. I think that I have come full circle. “I had found God in myself and I loved her fiercly!” Whether it was the film or my history with the play….I was a Colored Girl Who Once Considered Suicide When My Purpose Became Too Much…..and I am sitting here rethinking that choice….because my Purpose IS Enough! *bundles up in my purple and green sheets and comforter & hits Save.”


~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

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Colored Girl vs For Colored Girls:A Review, Part 1

In Take 2: Film/TV Reviews on 6 November 2010 at 12:01 pm


5 Nov 10, Noon EST

         For Colored Girls and I go back like hot combs on stoves, with everyone in the kitchen disguised as the family’s beauty parlor. Before I knew that “being black” meant that I was the Lady in Brown , by default, eternally. Before when pink use to be my favorite color, got sick of it and traded up to Purple because I discovered that I was a child of the royal Most High. Before when everyone called me Lady or Auntie Purple, while my house quietly went from Barney’s condo to Eve’s atonement for defiance just because I felt that way. Before I realized that red and blue make Purple and I may very well just be all three or the fact that those two make a whole me. You see, I am a Colored Girl. I’ve always been a colored girl. Long before I graced a stage senior year in High School to perform Lady in Blue’s signature “Sorry” piece…..I was just another Colored Girl who refused to be JUST another Colored Girl.  I was the Lady in Red attaching notes to potted plants after realizing that I couldnt truly use sex as a toy like the boys but did so anyway still longing to be touched by him, by…..somebody with a pulse. Or I was the Lady in Yellow who was the ONLY virgin amongst my friends at graduation who had to pretend like I was working with something…all the while not knowing what that something was. And definately before green became my second favorite color because I liked the way it looked next to purple, the contrast was to insure that nobody ” could almost walk off with all of my stuff“; I’d had that happened one time too many and wasnt letting it happen again. Just like I dont know if I want to let this movie happen. Well, I didnt at first, but now I dont know. Lets just say, to say that I am afraid to watch this film, yet ecstatic at its existence….is a bit like me saying that I am kinda pregnant, its true but doesnt make much sense in the scheme of things.

        Ntozake Shange is staring at me from the back cover of the book that I have had since 1998 when I purchased it from Borders. My co-workers, this morning, all mentioned how well-kept and new the book looks. I told them all that I have to take care of my books just in case I wanted to return the book to the store. But I didn’t have the strength to tell them, both African-American women, that I didn’t want to taint the image of the beautiful woman on the cover who I wished I had the courage to look like. I want to be able to rock my headwraps to work in my office without problems, or being deemed unprofessional. I want to be a Colored Girl at all times and not only when it is deemed appropriate. And with all that said…..I still can’t bring myself to bend back the cover while reading….or tell them that the real reason was because…….I don’t want to force the Colored Girl on the cover to bend over backwards for me.

        The backdrop behind her tearful face, the woman on the cover, seems to be that of a bathroom tile. How ironic that ever since I can remember the bathroom has been my safe haven. I feel safe in there and private in there, and sometimes still til this day I go and sit and cry in there. “Dark phrases of womanhood of never having been a girl”….It is almost a temple that people are just expected to leave you alone. The bathroom was the one place where I was left undisturbed, un-molested, un-attacked, and able to be at peace with myself. And as I ponder about who could this image have been modeled after, this amazing woman…..I wonder why God chose for the tile to be such a presence. And I, for the life of me…cant fight the feeling that I have…this urge to want to shout that I look like the woman on the old cover….I dont look like Janet. Taking nothing away from her beauty… but honey, Janet doesnt even look like Janet. So how can I cling to this rapid pace of change that has been forced upon me? DO I have to? How can I go back and erase the years drawn around this image, this source of inspiration that helped me through my adoloescent years?

        This work of art spoke to me when my high school theatre teacher introduced the book to me so that I may memorize some pieces for a monologue. I was entering into the Walter Trumbauer Festival in 1998. I did the festival every year and my senior year in high school would be no different. But wow, how was a young 17-year-old girl supposed to choose from so many wonderful monologues? For weeks I memorized poem, after poem, after poem because I had rationalized that they were all me and I could capitalize by entering the Monologue, Poetry Interpretation, and Silent Partner competition.  But who would have known that I would have broken up with my high school sweetheart just weeks before the competition? It must have been an act of GOD! Because the last thing that he said to me before walking away was “sorry”.

        You guessed it! I became the Lady in Blue. I memorized and worked on this piece and saw his face for days on end until I sometimes forgot that other people were in the class when I rehearsed. This was written just for me. It became my therapy, my way of speaking without having to tell my own business….I got to hide behind the performance in plain sight. It was beautiful. I won 3 FIRST place trophies that year, and they still are out in my house today some 12 years later. I also got the opportunity to perform the “Sorry” piece in front of the entire school in an assembly to showcase those of us who won at the festival. I found my ex in the crowd sitting next to his sloppy ass new girlfriend ( I NEVER liked that trick) and I performed it directly to him. It was my apology for thinking that he was someone worth my time. I was finally sorry; sorry for having wasted my time. (And for those who have read my Advice from the Other Woman blog here on this site….you know that I wasnt done…yet). It was so dramatic. He sat directly under one of the overhead lights in the theatre and I could point him out in the crowd. My performance would be the talk of the school for weeks because everyone knew that I was talking about his ass! But this year when I finally got tired of his sorries…. I walked away for good, forever…because “I couldnt stand being sorry and colored at the same time”. I had come full circle. I had finally received what I sought for this piece to deliver me from all those years ago. I had found the answer before I could ever understand the problem. It had been confirmed, this play was for ME!!!

        So, who is this movie for? Is it for colored girls who have baptized this play and deemed it their Bible when Zane novels aren’t enuf? Or for colored girls who pray that he (Tyler Perry) doesn’t fuck up our Holy Grail when Why Did I Get Married Too? and Medea’s Great Big Family were enuf? I am afraid to find out. Just from the commercial, the first time I saw it I was captivated and amazed that all of these amazing women were going to be in MY play!!! Who was going to play me? Who was going to tell my story. And then I saw it, the snippet of Janet doing the intro to “Sorry”. BUT WHY WAS SHE IN A RED DRESS?!  That is the Lady in Blue’s SIGNATURE piece… I can’t get past that. I can’t fathom how you could be so careless and I immediately began to get enraged. I was no longer a Colored girl but a Color-ed girl feeling as if this commercial has just thrown bleach on my favorite blue Prada dress! WHERE WAS MY BLUE!!!? I was already upset. I literally ran to my bookshelf and hugged the book and began to cry. Yes, I sound psycho…but you don’t understand…..this is my LIFE that Tyler is playing with. Who were these men in an all woman’s play? Would I feel as if too much had been done to such a sacred script?  Or should I be glad that at least all of these black women were employed? No matter what, I couldn’t shake the feeling that a street graffiti artist had come along and added a few of his homeboys to Da Vinci’s Last Supper and they were depicted stealing food from Mary’s, I mean Peter’s, plate. Or was I taking it too far?

Did I not have the right to prejudge? Was I not justified in thinking that the absence of real men in the play made me internalize what was being depicted on stage, force me to visualize myself in one of those colors? Or was I wrong for not giving it a chance? Or was I upset that another sacred piece of black art was being brought mainstream, mainstream….and possibly amongst “mixed company”? I felt the same way about Good Hair.  But this was Lauryn Hill killing me softly but showing up 3 hours late to do it kind of confusion.

        So, today, I brought the book with me to work. After reviewing it this week from cover to cover and having purchased my tickets Monday in advance…thanks Fandango!….I think I am ready to see the movie. I dont know what to expect. But I think I am ready to have an opinion. So, Dressed in all black , brown skin with a touch of Red….my colors of choice today…..I have 4 hours left……..I’ll tell you what I think. And If I’m wrong….. I’ll apologize

~*Check out Part 2 for My Critique*~


~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

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