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aLLow mE tO iNTroDucE mYsELf...



Now Playing: (No real relevance except for the fact that he lists a crap-load of names. Oh, and excuse the HEAVILY misogynistic overtones.)
There was Brenda, LaTisha, Linda, Felicia (okay) 
Dawn, LeShaun, Ines, and Alicia (ooh) 
Teresa, Monica, Sharron, Nicki (uh-huh) 
Lisa, Veronica, Karen, Vicky (damn) 
Cookies, well I met her in a ice cream parlor (aight?) 
Tonya, Diane, Lori and Carla (okay) 
Marina (uhh) Selena (uhh) Katrina (uhh) Sabrina (uhh) 
About three Kim's (WHAT?) LaToya, and Tina (WHOO!) 
Shelley, Bridget, Cavi, Rasheeda (uh-huh) 
Kelly, Nicole, Angel, Juanita (damn!) 
Stacy, Tracie, Rohna, and Ronda (WHAT?) 
Donna, Ulanda (WHAT?) Tawana, and Wanda (WHAT?) 
were all treated fairly but yet and still...- DMX and Siquo, What They Really Want, And Then There Was X






The name of Rhonda gives you a responsible, reserved, and dignified nature, able to find a certain amount of success in anything you undertake.You have an appreciation for the finer and deeper aspects of life. Your scholarly, studious interests incline you to art, literature, philosophy, music and drama.
You wonder about the deeper aspects of life contained in religious theories and occult beliefs. Although the name Rhonda creates an interest in the deeper aspects of life, we emphasize that it causes a superior, interfering expression whose favorite expression is "I know."

The idea of this post came from a friend, who posed the question "what does your name mean and does it reflect who you are" to her middle-schoolers. It kinda got me thinking about all of the friends I have who are parents or soon-to-be parents, and the countless classmates I've had with questionable names. 

In many cultures, the naming of child is very serious business. It is said that to name a child is to write his destiny--meaning that whatever name you chose, the child will become the image of his/her name. Makes you kinda feel sorry for all of the Tequilas and Dijons of the world huh?

With that being said, take 5 seconds to think about your name. ::thinking:: ::googling:: ::reading:: ::done:: I know some of you are pleased and others are having the ah-ha moment (that's why I'm in jail, Larceny means theft--thanks Mom!)

Now, I'm all about being unique, setting yourself apart from the crowd and all, but these days I'm thinking that creative=the new ignorant. So to all of my peers who are soon-to-be-moms and dads, please think before you name. To the parents of Tequila and Dijon: Slap yourself. Your name is your name FOREVER. If something is going to be tied to you until the end of days, shouldn't it have some type of substance? Wouldn't you want to name your child something that they can not only grow in to, but strive to achieve? I'm just saying--think about it.

Before I part, here is a short list of names to NEVER not EVER name your child:
*Alize`
*Fayvorryte (::read favorite:: real name of a girl in my niece's grade school...trust me, the child will still have issues with spelling  when she's 30)
*Vagenay (again, I don't make these names up. A little girl that was enrolled in the summer camp where I was a counselor)
*Do NOT use odd punctuations in your child's name (i.e and this was in the news La-A...prnounced LaDasha
*Which brings me to LAs, SHAs, RAs, TAs--they do not belong at the beginning of any old name people..please use these prefixes sparingly.

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poSErs...wHEn kEEpinG iT REaL iS noT enOUGh...

Now Playing: I'll scoop you up in me Porshe, sike--you know I got a Nissan.
That I'm still paying for, still got a lease on.
But it don't matter 'cause that ain't my aim to get you. 
I got fame, but you know that just ain't the issue.
Because you're looking like a woman of virtue.
So well-rounded, no wonder you're in my circle.
And normally you probably wouldn't give me the time of day. 'Cause Tay got rhymes, but no he ain't got time to waste. 
-Slow it Down (Little Brother,The Minstrel Show)




I know last week I was missing in action, but the newest Anita Blake just came out. And the book worm that I am could not resist to read and finish the book (which if you have an interest in the supernatural, you should definitely purchase Guilty Pleasures (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter)...You'll be a fan by nightfall...lol. While I was lost in the world of vampires and werewolves of the sort, I neglected my weekly post--and for that I am deeply apologetic ::sad face::.


Alas, this post is not about my infatuation with the undead.



Have you ever listened to the radio and heard your favorite rappers rhyming about how they kill, steal and are basically the biggest drug dealing thug lord that ever hit the streets? Have you then, later on down the road, been disheartened to find that not only are they
NOT master gangsters of the universe, but they don't live and never have lived anywhere near the ghetto.


 The closest they've seen to drugs is the powdered sugar and Tylenol in their grandma's cabinet--and not only do they "snitch", but they are the feds themselves???? Which brings me to my first offender...

Ricky Ross....I mean
Rick Ross,  not the one who was the real thug lord extraordinaire. I'm talking about the Corrections Officer--uh--rapper. Now, I'm the first one to defend an artist who speaks about hood life in a manner that's more so reporting what you see and live through day to day--but I absolutely loathe the glorification of dumb-ass behavior. It's even worse when said glorifier not only DOES NOT live this life, but lives the TOTAL AND COMPLETE OPPOSITE!!! I mean really...His next album should be: Life on Cell Block C--the Other Side of the Bars. I would respect him a little more.The saying goes: when someone shows who who they really are, believe them--so I can only assume when Rick Ross says don't trust the police, he secretly means himself. POSER. But I did like that song Here I Am though...ehhh.


So, it's a nice day outside, and you want to curl up to  a good book. You hear about this really good memoir about a guy who had a REALLY rough life--sounds interesting. You start reading, and soon find yourself so emotionally invested in this man, that you feel pain as he feels it with every account you read. Upon finishing, you commence to calling all of your friends to rave about the book, only to find out weeks later that the drug-addicted, homeless, abused man you felt sorry for is really an heir to a small fortune and never had to work a day in his life. You think to yourself: I can't believe anyone would do this! Well, author James Frey did. Author of the book A Million Little Pieces, Frey wrote a supposedly non-fiction memoir, that got so popular that even Oprah endorsed him! I guess the notoriety that the Oprah show gained him caused regular people and news reporters alike to really take a more in depth look into his life--funny thing is, the life they investigated, and the life from the "memoir", were two totally different things. Long story short, he went back to Oprah's show to apologize to readers for his indiscretions. Too little too late. Now you're a fraud, counterfeiter, bamboozler, a leader astray (you get the point) and your career is now ruined. Should've just published it as fiction. POSER.


Well election season rolls around and you want the best person in office. A person that represents everything you stand for. A charismatic candidate comes along that speaks to your soul. He fought against the mob influence that was plaguing your town, and really cracked down on the prostitution that was making your neighborhood less than ideal. You vote him in office and are pleased with him for a long time--until he becomes apart of the world that he took an oath to destroy. Elliot Spitzer, former New York governor--who is also married-- was caught participating in a high-end prostitution ring. 
The man who was so tough on crime turned out to be a criminal himself. 
He lied to his family, he deceived the voters and ultimately resigned as a form of self-punishment. He prosecuted people for the same things that he did behind closed doors. He presented himself as a morally sound man, who was adamantly against anything that wasn't by-the-book--only to find out that Spitzer was using cliff's notes the entire time. POSER.


Moral of the story: Why lie?

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