"They" Still Don't Get It

I was reading the online edition of the Atlanta Journal and Constitution when I came across this article I can't believe the sheer gall and just plain stupidity of this author to actually write a textbook that pretty much states that slavery didn't exist. What really pisses me off even more is that the state education board approved this shit. Not that it should surprise me being that most of the fools up there are fresh out of rope and are now trying to hang niggas by denying them an education that's fruitful. It just really goes to show that my tax dollars once again, are going to waste.

How dare this imbecile even imply that Black folks willingly came over here to do farm work. Last time I checked, I don't recall my ancestors lining up down the trail trying to get on a cramped ass boat with some complementary feet and wrist traveling shackles to come to Amerikkka to make some damn money doing farmwork. We were already farming our own land and creating new ways to do shit that these mofos hadn't even thought about doing. That bitch better try that again. I feel that the fact that this textbook refuses to acknowledge in any form or fashion that slavery did in fact exist is comparable to refusing to acknowledge that the Holocaust happened by writing that the Jews willingly went to Concentration Camps to get "smarter". Get the fuck outta here with that nonesense!

The social studies coordinator and the owner of the company that publishes the book don't seem to understand what all the hoopla is all about. Well, I'll break it down to them as simple as I can: Any time you try to teach children about history, hell anything for that matter, and you either omit or half state the facts to suit your fancy, you're not teaching them anything. Hell, they're educators, so they should know better. The only reason why they able to get away with the shit this long because very few parents, white or black, take the time to find out what the hell their kids are doing in school. It's sad.

Typical Palm people behavior, always trying to do some underhanded shit on the sly.

*Throwing Shit At The Computer Monitor*

I am one bitter broad. I thought about my sperm donor last night and realized that I despise him more than anything or anyone that has pissed me off in my lifetime. I'm trying to channel this negative energy into something positive, but everytime I look at my situation or hear Peanut say "daddy", it makes my blood boil. If I ever see that muthafucker, I'd probably be liable to cut his dick off and stick it up his ass. I'm not playing either, I hate his bitch ass. Now I know some of y'all out there reading this are going "no, you don't mean that". Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubbles, but yes I do mean it. I know I shouldn't feel this way but I do. I'm trying to work through it and eventually I will get to a point in my life when I say " ______ who?" without fantisizing about stabbing him fifty times through his heart.

In other news, my classes were eventually canceled on Thursday night. Clayton State couldn't compete with a tornado. You would think that since the test was pushed back to Tuesday, I would've taken the time to study this past weekend right? Wrong! I studied every bit of two hours collectively this weekend for this exam. I so suck as a student. I just don't know how to study for this exam. I always have a hard time studying for math exams anyway. While the exam is really just a review over trigonometry (which I did good in by the way), I'm still not feeling the fact that my professor loooooooves himself some graph theory. Personally, I could give rat's baby ass, but he just thinks it the best thing in the world next to hot, soft dinner rolls from Ryan's with the honey butter. Ummmm, honey butter rolls! (I'm sorry ya'll, but those rolls are the shits).

Aside from all the other no going on in my life, my car, n.k.a Just Blaze, is acting a complete fool now. The head or the gasket is fucked up and to top it off, now that the weather has gotten a little chilly and shit, the damn heat won't work. I had to roast this summer and now I'm going to have to freeze in the winter. This shit is unfuckinbelievable. I can't catch a break on nothing, you hear me? NOTHING! I'm tired of cars, I should stab Ford's bitch ass. What was wrong with the horse and buggy? All you have to do is feed the damn horse and give it some water and the nigga will be aight. Cars on the other hand require oil, gas, anti-freeze, tires, transmission fluid, etc. I'm tired. I miss my Shamrock. She was such a good car. I should stab that damn soccer mom from Alpharetta. Man, if I ever see that bitch.....oooooOOOOOHHHHH!

Okay, I'm going to go now, because I think this makes my second angry post in a month, or maybe the third one. Hell, I'm losing count now.

A Letter To Ivan

Dear Ivan,

What the fuck took you so long dawg? I've been waiting on you to get here so that I wouldn't have to go to work. Well, even though you're seven hours late, at least you let me leave work early. Damn, man I was about to nut up in that joint! I'm glad you came through finally. However, I'm going to need you to do a little more damage, you know like blow down some trees, cause some flooding or something like that. My dumb ass school still insists on having classes tonight. That's not good for me, because I have a precalculus exam tonight that I've studied every bit of one hour for. I need you man to come through for a nigga. Please Ivan, do some real damage to CCSU. Blow a tree limb through one of those precious windows that I'm still paying for in that new state of the art University Center. Make the lake flood the 1st floor of the University Center or something, you're a hurricane be creative. Please Ivan, I don't want to take this exam tonight because I will surely flunk, well not flunk it, but I will not make the grade that I'm aiming to make. Please Ivan, I'm begging you dawg. Do this for me, do it for all of the little people, do it for East Point, College Park, Riverdale, Morrow, and Jonesboro. We need you.......

Sincerely,

Reza

What's Really Going On?

Labor Day sucked major ass. It rained and as usual people got drunk. I will decline to mention exactly who, but just know that people that can't hold an ounce of liquor, shouldn't even attempt to damn drink. I've never understood the whole concept of drinking to the point of inebriation, damn, what's so hard about stopping when you feel your ass detaching from the rest of your body? Anyway, I can't stand being around people when they're drunk. It makes me mad enough to want to fight them and shit. EWWWWW! Why, fucking, why?

Anyway, Frances stupid ass didn't come up on land like she was supposed to. I damn sure didn't feel like coming to work today. I mean she had the wind blowing something fierce and my sister's power went out (as some of you may not be aware, my power has been out for a couple of weeks now, so apartment has been without anyway). I even called up my job just to see if they didn't have any power so I could stay my black ass at home with Peanut. Unfortunately, my coworker said that they did, hence the reason for my angry post. I hope Ivan can pick up where Frances lazy ass left off.

I'm in a really pissy mood right now. I'll come back when I'm not so mad........

Identity Crisis

Achtung: This little tidbit that I'm about to share is totally unrelated to what I will be discussing later....

My car keeps running hot all the time, so I'm changing it's name from "Whiteboy" to "Just Blaze".

Now to begin with the topic at hand......

I really think I'm going to change my email, blog, and t-shirts from saying anything remotely close to or alluding to "Diva". Why? Because err'body wants to be a diva nowadays. Just like err'body wants to be a bitch. A friend of mine would tell me all the time "All women aren't Divas." He was right. Some women are chickenheads, skanks, skezzers, hoes, wanton, evil, etc... However, may of these women truly think they're a Diva when in fact the truth is they ain't anywhere close. Could it be that the requirements for being a Diva have been loosened? With this and other questions in mind, I beganto do a little soul searching of my own and it led me to the ulitimate question:

Am I truly a Diva?

Well, today I will answer this question for the two people and the dog that accidentally turned on his owner's computer, miraculously did a Google search and found my site reading my blog. The answer is..............yes, no, yes, no, yes...

No. (Y'all liked how I had y'all anticipating and stuff!)

In my opinion a true Diva is a woman's woman. She can make the rain fall without a single cloud in the sky, because in her words she's "just that damn good". She makes heads turn without even making noise, because her presence is so strong (her presence people, not her smell). A true Diva has to have things done her way, regardless of the circumstance that my threaten it from happening. She's always on point - all the time, so you will never catch her slipping. A Diva's got more class than a Georgia State University history professor (I know it's lame, but Monica's hubby will probably think it's funny because he's lame anyway). I wouldn't go as far as saying that she's extra feminine, but you can tell that she's a woman that most women wish they could be like.

I, on the other hand am not.

I'm far from a Diva. Always have and probably always will. I am a true tomboy at heart. I'm far from classy, even downright ghetto at times. I guess I called myself a Diva because I like shocking people. They think they're getting one thing and then I come in with the uppercut and fool all of their asses. To me it's fun to think of my boyish and extemely silly ass as a Diva even though I'm the total antithesis of one. I like making self appear to be something that I'm not, like for instance, being professional (yep, catch me on the downstroke at work and if I answer the phone, you might get a "nigga what'chu want?" instead of "Good afternooon and all that blah, blah, professional ettiquette shit). Anyway, I've just decided that it's in my best interest to just be good 'ol Ree-Ree. The around the girl that can get drunk with the niggas, blow smoke in niggas eyes (note: I do not smoke the essence just an occasional cheap cigar and bidis), and surprise people when I wear something other than my white tee (I'm just kidding).

I've tried to be Diva-fied and it failed miserably. It was like I had fallen into a pile of manure and people were just standing around laughing at my clumsy ass. I've realized that I don't have what it takes. Unfortunately, they don't have classes on how to become a Diva, so, from this point on I'm just going to be me. However, I don't want my daughter to grow up and think that it's okay to act like a nigga when you're supposed to be a lady. I'm gonna have to work real hard at making her into a lady because Lord knows her daddy isn't going to be around to give her some of his helpful hints, with his bitch ass. Oooops! I shouldn't have said that *shaking head* (if you watch the Dave Chappelle Show, then you should know who said that).

Oh well, to all the other Divas in the world, I just want to say that I'm going miss being one of the many underserving women who touted Divadom. May a heel break off of your new pair Rainbow 5-inch stilletto sandals, a track fall out of your supposed $1000 fusion weave do ( in actuality you only paid Shaneka down the street $50 in EBT purchases for a quick weave), and also may your imitation Wet and Wild mascara run like a runaway slave.

I'm done. The Diva Chronicles will be no more.............