Archives for posts with tag: BHFOTD

Who doesn’t love a good sing along?
Not me! I LOVE sing alongs.

A short list of sing alongs that I’ve gone to:

  • Nightmare before Christmas – a midnight showing!
  • Little Mermaid – Where Gwen Stefani snuck in at the last minute with her kid. And then had to sneak back out because even though we were in Hollywood, people were acting like they’ve never seen a rock star with a kid.
  • The Sound of Music – YOU GUYS. This one is the best! You can dress up and they have everybody in costume walk the stage and it’s at the Hollywood Bowl so you can also drink! Please note that the pre-show and mid-show stuff makes this sing along the LONGEST SING ALONG EVER, but. YOU CAN ALSO DRINK.

I haven’t gone to a Frozen sing along. Although I’ve heard that I should. Because I STILL haven’t seen it.

I used to take the brat because those things are for kids. So I would bring one for form. I don’t have any “kids” anymore. So I guess I’m gonna start borrowing my nieces for this kinda shit. Or not. Because really, I DO WHAT I WANT. INCLUDING GOING TO SING ALONGS.

What does ANY of this have to do with the BHFOTD?
Well you guys..It’s Friday. And I’ve been busy. And so this BHFOTD is gonna be short(ish) and sweet. And about Chuck Berry.

Chuck Berry is one of the pioneers of rock and roll music. He refined and developed rhythm and blues into the major elements that made rock and roll distinctive, with lyrics focusing on teen life and consumerism and utilizing guitar solos and showmanship that would be a major influence on subsequent rock music.

Berry was among the first musicians to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on its opening in 1986, with the comment that he “laid the groundwork for not only a rock and roll sound but a rock and roll stance.” Berry is included in several Rolling Stone “Greatest of All Time” lists, including being ranked fifth on their 2004 list of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s 500 Songs that Shaped Rock and Roll included three of Chuck Berry’s songs: “Johnny B. Goode,” “Maybellene,” and “Rock and Roll Music.”

Berry STILL continues to play live. He just had his 200th show at Blueberry Hill (restaurant/club) on January 15th. OF THIS YEAR. If that’s not rock and roll, nothing is!

I feel like everybody should have a favorite Chuck Berry song. My personal favorite is “Brown-Eyed Handsome Man”.
For reasons. Hey, baby, hey.

But did you know that Chuck Berry only had ONE Number one pop hit? Like to hear it, here it go! You’re welcome guys.

Happy Friday!

 

 

 

I’m not a kid anymore. But some days I sit and wish I was a kid again.

Not really. Well. Okay. Maybe SOMETIMES. Because I miss playing outside!
Tag! Climbing trees! Riding my bike! Ding dong ditch! (‘cause I was bad)
Stuff kids don’t do anymore. Because they’re boring…
and might break their electronic devices when they take them outside
because GOD FORBID YOU PUT THE FEKKING THING DOWN AND JUST ENJOY YOURSELF.
(Ahem. Yes. I am the pot calling all y’all kettles black)
(To be fair though, I DO have so much fun that I put my phone down. Which is why I’m always leaving it somewhere)
(SHADDUP)

Anyways. I hope that y’all are old enough to have had the kind of childhoods where you spent time outdoors.
I (mostly) appreciated it. I DID NOT appreciate:
     1. Being told to go play outside when NOBODY was around to play with and so basically me and Nisha just sat out on auntie Ve’s              front porch mad because there was nothing to do and they wouldn’t let us back in.
     2. Having to stay within eyeshot because some of my friends lived around the corner/waaaayyy down the street and if they didn’t              come to me I couldn’t go to them.
     3. The mad dash home because I had to be home before the street lights came on. Because y’all don’t wanna know about what                 happens when you don’t beat the street lights home.
          a. I’m sure you can console yourself, Mommy, with the fact that the statute of limitations is probably up on beating your children.
          b. And also you moved out of the state.
          c. And also I’m grown so I can’t call the people on you.
               i. Which if I HAD (as a child), they better hadda came and got me. Because SHEEEIIIIT.

And with #3, let’s get to today’s fact! Back in the day when I wasn’t alive, there were towns that were purposely all-white. And to make sure they stayed that way they posted signs saying that black people had to leave town by sundown. OR ELSE* Usually the signs weren’t that polite. For instance, in the 1930’s, Hawthorne (CALIFORNIA. CALIFORNIA) had a sign posted that said “Nigger, Don’t let the sun set on YOU in Hawthorne”.

This exclusionary practice was borne out of the north where many African Americans made their living by working as domestic servants in white homes and towns. Nightly curfews were implemented to “encourage” domestic workers to leave the town after their daytime shifts ended. In some cases, the exclusion was an OFFICIAL town policy or restrictive covenants agreed to by the real estate agents in the community. In others, the policy was enforced through intimidation. This intimidation could occur in a number of ways, including harassment by the officers of the (G-DAMN) law.

I would like to leave this here for a second and talk about what a pain in the ass it is to travel through PREDOMINANTLY white towns like, Irvine, and Beverly Hills, and the like. Because they routinely stop people of color for going 1 mile over the speed limit or because “you look like someone reported as a suspect in the area” (we don’t all look alike! Just ask Lawrence Fishburne!)

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” My guess is that saying because I’m black would not help your cause at ALL, even though it’s true.

Moving on. Since the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 1960s, and especially since the Civil Rights Act of 1968 prohibited racial discrimination concerning the sale, rental, and financing of housing, the number of sundown towns has decreased. DECREASED. Not disappeared (Please see above mentioned cities)

And so that’s today’s fact guys! Back in the day, when I wasn’t alive and today, in 2014, there are towns where being black after dark is a crime. Which I guess isn’t so surprising, since it’s also a crime in the DAYTIME in some towns. And I guess I could probably say some STATES too, since Florida has been in the news because you can KILL a black boy, but if you shoot and MISS him, then you might go jail for attempted murder. But I’m not gonna. Because I feel like those things aren’t related at all.

 

*OR ELSE – Harassment, and Violence, and Lynchings! Oh SHIT My!

 

 

So this weekend I was in Vegas. Blah blah…concert…blah blah…Queens of the Stone Age…
I talked my husband into sending me to Vegas for Valentine’s Day because JOSH HOMME.
But from far away, because J.Ho is 6’5. And y’all know how I feel about the unnaturally tall.

Image

Nesto didn’t wanna go. Because he doesn’t love Vegas. Or rock music, really. Which is okay.
Because he loves ME. All the time, so I didn’t need a special day to show me he loves me.
(also: he gave me some spendin’ cash, which when you’re going to Vegas is a lot like love)
Also, you guys…I also would like to take a second to talk about their drummer. Because DAMN.
Captian Obvious comment of the day: He’s black!

Which has nothing to do with anything except that we’re talking about black people and shit that black people do. And that IS a fact. Not THE fact. Just A fact.

Actually today’s fact has to do with the fact that while we were flying to/from Vegas, I was watching the Olympics. Because who isn’t?! I’ve been watching a lot of ice skating. Because it’s all I seem to be able to catch. Which is fine. Because I love ice skating! (Tooooe pick!)

Fun fact: I took an ice skating class in High School. Nobody is surprised by this right? This is a perk of having an ice skating rink one block from your high school. I’m not terrible, but I can’t do THIS.

This badass is Surya Bonaly, French-American professional figure skater. She is a three-time World silver medalist, a five-time European champion, the 1991 World Junior Champion and a nine-time French national champion. She’s also the first woman to ever attempt the quadruple toe loop.

But! She’ll go down in history for as the only figure skater to complete one bladed back flip during free skate at the 1998 Winter Olympics. To this day she is the only skater to ever do this – not the only female figure skater, the only figure skater period. (Oh look! A black history fact and a regular ol’ HISTORY fact rolled into one.) Backflips had been deemed not a legal move because all jumps must be landed on one blade to be scored and in order to complete a back flip you must land on both feet. So basically she MADE the backflip legal because she was able to do it using one blade. It was still ruled illegal and deducted against her final score. Also! She believed that the judges had been consistently giving her lower scores than her white figure skating counter parts* and that move was a big EFF YOU to the judges.
After the 1998 Olympics, Surya Bonaly retired from amateur competitions, began competing professionally and won many professional titles. She toured with Champions on Ice for several years. And In 2004, Bonaly became a U.S. citizen and moved to the United States.

She currently teaching skating in Las Vegas, Nevada (Hey! I was just there! Not ice skating, though. Drinking. And gambling. And concerting –a lovely valentine’s day song. You’re welcome.)

Look at that! All roads lead back to Vegas!

*I mean, I can’t say that she wasn’t discriminated against. Maybe in a sport where there are few black people she struggled because in general we are taught we have to be twice as good to get half as much, she felt put upon to do more and still felt like she wasn’t getting what she deserved. Maybe even when she DID more, she got dinged for being better. Maybe because EVEN in 2014 a 10-time figure skating world champion, a triple Olympic gold medallist posted some racist BS to the entire world so it would stand to reason that in 1998 a young black girl would feel like maybe the judges were being assholes because she’s black. But maybe not. Who knows?

 

 

 

Y’all know that I work at a big fancy hospital right? FANCY. We are SOFA KING Fancy up in this place! Hospital to the rich and jackassy famous!

So lemme tell y’all a story about how I found out that Denzel Washington was handsome! (Shaddup. Not everybody thinks he’s gorgeous. I happen to think he has ABNORMALLY LARGE TEETH. And a whole lot of them) ANYWAYS, I was walking to lunch and not watching where I was going (as usual) and some dude was ALSO not watching where he was going plows into me. Luckily he caught me before he threw me to the ground! Then he asked me if I knew where Dr. Keith Black’s office was. Which I didn’t. And because I’m sometimes helpful, I pointed him toward the security guard

 And then 5 minutes later, I was like HEY. THAT WAS DENZEL WASHINGTON*. Huh. He’s not bad looking.

 Image

 

Also: He looks a LOT like Dr Black. Just me? MAYBE WE ALL *DO* LOOK ALIKE.

Today’s riddle! What do Dr Black and today’s BHFOTD have in common? Neurosurgeon-ness!

The details regarding the first African-American neurosurgeon, Clarence Sumner Greene, Sr., have remained in relative obscurity. Born on December 26, 1901 in Washington, D.C., Dr. Greene received his M.D. from the Howard University College of Medicine with distinction in 1936. After 7 years of general surgery residency and 4 years as a professor of surgery at Howard University, he was granted the opportunity by the legendary Wilder G. Penfield to train in neurosurgery at the world-renowned Montreal Neurological Institute from 1947 to 1949. Receiving high praise from Dr. Penfield, Dr. Greene became the first African-American certified by the American Board of Neurological Surgery on October 22, 1953. Subsequently, he was appointed as chair of neurosurgery at Howard University, where he successfully treated intracranial aneurysms, brain tumors, and herniated intervertebral discs until his tragic death in 1957.

 

 

*I am allowed to tell this story if I want. It doesn’t violate any patient/doctor confidentiality type situations. And if it did (but it didn’t), let’s just pretend I said his name to SMENZEL SMASHINGTON. Good day, sir (and ma’ams)!

 

 

So lemme tell y’all about my weekend:

  1. Delayed at LAX
  2. Got my tattoo finished. FINISHED!
  3. Fun with Julia and Friends
  4. Delayed at SFO

How was YOUR weeekend?

Yes. I really do send out these kinds of emails to my friends. Usually with more cursing and/or creative curse words as to avoid my FUCKINGWORKFILTERS (:see example). I’m very dedicated to keeping offensive content in my e-mails. I sent this email AFTER I sent out yesterday’s BHFOTD. Because SOME OF Y’ALL are not shy at all about harassment when you think I’m running late. Did y’all like my sissie’s fact? I bullied her into doing it because I didn’t wanna have to come back and spend my Sunday working. BUT IF SHE HADN’T this woulda been yesterday’s fact because It’s February BLACK HISTORY MONTH, which means that pretty much anything can be worked into a BHFOTD. Including shit I did over the weekend and jokes like these:

On some air bases the Air Force is on one side of the field and civilian aircraft use the other side of the field, with the control tower in the middle. One day the tower received a call from an aircraft asking, “What time is it?”

The tower responded, “Who is calling?”
The aircraft replied, “What difference does it make?”
“It makes a lot of difference,” the tower replied —
“If it is an Southwest flight, it is 3 o’clock. (It’s probably late, and was supposed to arrive at 9AM or some other ridiculously early time *cough* – changed airline name and smart ass comment added by me. FOR REASONS)
“If it is an Air Force plane, it is 1500 hours.
“If it is a Navy aircraft, it is 6 bells.
“If it is an Army aircraft, the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 3.
“If it is a Marine Corps aircraft, it’s Thursday afternoon and 120 minutes to ‘Happy Hour’.”

I feel like you can guess where this fact is going. Nesto gets the BHFOTD too. And then I got a request. Normally, I only take requests AFTER February, because I’m an artist, and I’m sensitive about my shit (anybody wanna name that song? Anybody?) I’m kidding. It’s because I’m contrary, and I don’t like being bossed around. But I suppose being married to me is trial enough for anybody, so he deserve SOME perks. Aside from the obvious ones *nudge nudge, wink wink*

SO TODAY’S (wikipedia reading) FACT:

Frank E. Petersen Jr. (USMC) (born March 2, 1932 in Topeka, Kansas) is a retired United States Marine Corps Lieutenant General. He was the first African-American Marine Corps aviator and the first African-American Marine Corps general.

Petersen served two combat tours in two wars — Korea (1953) and Vietnam (1968). His first tactical assignment was with Marine Fighter Squadron 212 during the Korean War. He flew over 350 combat missions with over 4,000 hours in various fighter/attack aircraft.

He held command positions at all levels of Marine Corps aviation — commanding a Marine Fighter Squadron, a Marine Aircraft Group, and a Marine Aircraft Wing. He was also the first African-American to command a fighter squadron, a fighter air group, an air wing, and a major base.

And as if today’s fact isn’t long enough: I’m throwing in a flashback BHFOTD:

So one day, I was talking to Nesto and watching Lock and Load with R. Lee Ermey (“let me see your WAR FACE”) and they were doing a segment on pilots and he says to me… Did you know that I was in Iraq/Afghanistan with the first black female Cobra Pilot?

Vernice Armour.

(Because this IS getting long, and I’ve got one more day of work before I rock out in Vegas)

Semper Fi!

 

Image
Black people come in every shade of brown you can think of. Let’s be clear on something. I love me some me! But, my people, WE sure have learned how to tear our own race down. Slavery has brought along with it some very shameful behaviors. One of the most destructive and minimized of those behaviors is the practice of colorism.

 Image

An actual test, along with the so-called ruler test in common use in the the early 1900s among upper class Black American societies and families to determine if a Black person was sufficiently white to gain admittance or acceptance. If your skin was darker than a brown paper bag, you did not merit inclusion. Thousands of Black institutions including the nation’s most eminent Black fraternity — Phi Alpha Phi, Howard Univiersity, and numerous church and civic groups all practiced this discriminiation. The practice has 19th Century antecedants with the Blue Blood Society and has not totally died out.

Zora Neal Hurston, member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Incorporated (Z-Phiiiii) was the first well known writer to air this strange practice in a public. The practice is now nearly universally condemned (at least in public) as being an example of “colorism”. Particularly cogent modern day critiques can be found in Kathy Russell’s “The Color Complex”, Tony Morrion’s “The Bluest Eye” (an Oprah Winfrey Book Club choice) and Marita Golden’s “Don’t Play in the Sun.” The best known send-up of the pactice, however, is Spike Lee’s scathing and hilarious 1988 movie, “School Daze.”

“Though the brown paper bag test is antiquated and frowned upon as a shameful moment in African-American history, the ideals behind the practice still lingers in the African-American community” — Rivea Ruff, BlackCollegeView.Com

In my household, my daughter, my son and myself are all different shades of brown. I’ve heard my daughter say that she doesn’t want to get any darker and that her brother is “dark.” Where do they get it from? I certainly don’t make a distinction, and yet that misguided concept is there. Even I struggled with this issue when I was younger – wishing that my skin was lighter and my hair was longer. It’s a very insidious thought that permeates black culture. It also exists in other cultures with indigenous people of brown skin. An excellent documentary, “Dark Girls”, takes a really hard look at the issue of Colorism.

Colorism is a very real issue, but the message is starting to get out. You are more than just the color of your skin and the texture of your hair. You are a voice. You are a force. YOUR BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL.

 

*This VERY AWESOME PSA/BHFOTD is brought to you by my sissie! YES, shaming my sister until she gives me what I want works!
** Does that mean I have to do a fact on good and bad hair now? Because, SCHOOL DAZE!

 

Recently I got a new tattoo. It’s GORGEOUS, guys!
It’s BIG (that’s what she said). It’s a half sleeve.
It’s the state flower of all the places the Marine Corps has dragged my ass
when I was living my life as a Marine Corps wife.
It’s also not finished.

I got it in Berkeley, when I was visiting the boy.
Which means that I’m going back to Cali… Cali..wait. I’m already IN Cali.
I’m going back to the BAY AREA (I’m sorry that I am not sorry. I can never resist. E-40 is always relevant to my interest)
Which yannow. Is COOL because hey! I get to visit the boy.
And get some more work done on my tattoo.

So I get to travel! It’s only an hour flight!
And I most definitely fly. Because I hate driving. And avoid it whenever possible.
Unless of course, I’m riding shotgun. I can passenger like a BOSS.

Anyways, today’s fact is about David Harris. He was the first African American pilot for a major airline in 1964. 1964! Only 50 years ago
David Harris has Marlon Dewitt Green to thank for that! Green was an African-American pilot whose landmark United States Supreme Court decision in 1963 helped dismantle racial discrimination in the American passenger airline industry
that lead to hiring David Harris as the first African-American pilot for a major airline the following year. Green was subsequently hired by Continental Airlines, for whom he flew from 1965 to 1978.

You know who else has Marlon Green to thank?

Image
This guy!* (Hi Maine! Sissie! Cricket! GEEEEOOOOOORRRRGE!)

This guy is Brian Harris, TSU Tiger (I’m so glad, my sis went to T-S-U!), first Black Base Chief Pilot for Atlantic Southeast Airlines!

*I’m pretty sure I took the picture. I can’t be certain because a) it was homecoming weekend with everything that means and b) DO YOU GUYS SEE HOW TALL THIS GUY IS?!

Enjoy your weekend folks! Maybe by Monday, my sissie will have written a fact so that I can take a damn break because I’m gonna be hanging out with my friends this weekend and
not looking for random facts, unless of course one falls into my lap like this one did because I never woulda known about this one if my sissie hadn’t sent me a text telling me
and really those are my favorite kinda facts because I don’t have to do much leg work AND because it’s kinda amazing that in 2014 black people are still being FIRST at things that they
been doing for a long ass time already and just now getting credit/acknowledgement/OPPORTUNITY to do stuff. Post racial America (MAD SIDE EYES)!

Fuck yeah!

 

So this one time I took tennis lessons, because it seemed like a good idea.
I am always down to try something I haven’t before.
(keep your remarks to yourself peanut gallery)
It was, by the way! I enjoyed it.
According to my tennis instructor, I had a wicked backhand.
..I’m just gonna let that sit there while y’all think about how wonderfully behaved my children are…

ANYWAYS, I ended up stopping because they postponed classes to re-finish the tennis courts
And something something…they never resumed classes for the rest of the summer.
Which kinda sucked. Because I was having the best time.
I may start it again. Because not raising kids anymore means I have free time.
But having kids in college means I never have any money…
So signing up at my local park is right in my price range.
(Support your local parks!)

Which of course leads me to my BHFOTD:

Today in 1993, Arthur Ashe dies.

*ahem*
Ashe and his brother were raised by their father who worked as a handyman and was also a special policeman for Richmond’s recreation department. Ashe’s father was a strict disciplinarian who forbade him to play football, which was a popular choice for many black children, due to Ashe’s slight build. The Ashes’ house was located on the grounds of Brookfield Playground, Richmond’s largest blacks-only playground, which had a tennis court. Ashe began practicing on the court and learned a few basic strokes from another young player. Tired of having to travel great distances to play Caucasian youths in segregated Richmond, Ashe accepted an offer from a St. Louis tennis official to move there and attend Sumner High School. Ashe was recognized by Sports Illustrated for his playing, and awarded a tennis scholarship to the University of California, Los Angeles ((f)UCLA) in 1963.

In 1963 Ashe became the first black player ever selected for the United States Davis Cup team. In 1965, Ashe won the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) singles title and contributed to UCLA’s winning the team NCAA tennis championship.
In 1968, Ashe won the United States Amateur Championships, and the first US Open of the open era, becoming the first black male to capture the title. He is the only player to have won both of these amateur and open national championships in the same year.

In January 1970, Ashe won his second Grand Slam singles title at the Australian Open. Concerned that tennis professionals were not receiving winnings commensurate with the sport’s growing popularity, Ashe supported the formation of the Association of Tennis Professionals in 1972. That year proved momentous for Ashe when he was denied a visa by the South African government, and was thus kept out of the South African Open. Ashe used this to publicize South Africa’s apartheid policies: in the media, Ashe called for South Africa to be expelled from the professional tennis circuit.
In 1975, Ashe won Wimbledon, defeating Jimmy Connors in the final. He also won the season ending championship WCT Finals. He played for a few more years, but after being slowed by heart surgery in 1979, he retired in 1980.

Ashe remains the only black man to win the singles title at Wimbledon, the US Open, or Australian Open. He is one of only two men of black African ancestry to win any Grand Slam singles title, the other being France’s Yannick Noah, who won the French Open in 1983.

In the early 1980s, Ashe contracted HIV from a blood transfusion he received during heart bypass surgery. Ashe publicly announced his illness in April 1992 and began working to educate others about HIV and AIDS. He founded the Arthur Ashe Foundation for the Defeat of AIDS and the Arthur Ashe Institute for Urban Health before his death from AIDS-related pneumonia on February 6, 1993.

On June 20, 1993, Ashe was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by President Bill Clinton.

LEST YOU THINK I’M ALL DOOM AND GLOOM…I have a thing where I’m always wishing people belated birthdays!
It’s not on purpose, really. I just get distracted by life. So even though you are on my mind, I may not get a chance to wish you the happiest of birthdays
Complete with blessings and love and hopes of this birthday be the happiest birthday you’ve ever had until your NEXT birthday.
Because I can be over the top when it comes to wishing people happy birthday. *cough*

Moving along…Did you know that yesterday was the birthday of Trayvon Martin?
He woulda been 19! Tangentially related, my daughter turns 19 this year.

She’ll be just returning to college as a sophmore on her birthday.
She’ll be just returning from studying abroad.
She’ll be excited about seeing her friends at school after not seeing them for the summer.
She’ll be happy she’s not at home with her parents worrying the shit outta her asking her a bunch of questions.

And me? I’ll celebrate her birthday and that I don’t have to celebrate her memory while other people celebrate the reason she is no longer with us by making him a celebrity by calling her at an insanely early hour to sing her happy birthday*.

*Yeah. Death. It’s what’s for the BHFOTD.

 

 

 

Yeah, so…I totally was rooting for the Seahawks. Not because I am a Seahawk fan…calm your tits, Steeler Nation. I’m still here for y’all!
But I’mma be honest: I am a Richard Sherman fan. I do like me a good shit talker. (And y’all people who know my husband know this to be true). SO.
I cheered for them in spite of Pete Carroll (who I hate, because he ditched USC after he helped screw them into a slew of sanctions)
(and if you don’t think he was part of this BS, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I wanna sell you)
Side rant: Y’all can say what you want about him. He can suck a fat one.

ANYWAYS, todays random story is about how I’m not here to help.
So this one time my cousin (in law) had this completely random argument
in her facebook status…

 Image

Yeah, that’s me at the bottom. Not helping at all. BUT! Today’s your lucky day, folks! Because today is the beginning of your BHFOTD! And I’m here to help learn y’all some black history. And since we just had a Super Bowl (48, for those keeping count at home), today’s fact is about football! Sort of a gimme. Because the day after the Super Bowl can be rough. Who’s idea was it to drink that much whiskey anyways?

ANYWAYS: Today’s fact. Russell Wilson, Seahawk QB is the second black QB to win a Super Bowl (43-8). I would also like to point out that the FIRST black QB to win a Super Bowl and the second have something else in common. Aside from being black. And being quarterbacks. And winning Super Bowls. BOTH of these dudes won against Denver Broncos in a blowout (Super Bowl XXII: 42 -10).

Wow.

 

WELCOME TO MY TOMFOOLERY FOLKS: It’s that time again. FEBRUARY. BLACK HISTORY MONTH. OR, as one of my friends put it ” If white people have to acknowledge that black people are also important in order to make up for the fact that they have systematically fucked over black people for the entirety of the time span in which they have had any contact with them at all, then dammit white people will ONLY acknowledge black people accomplishments in the shortest month of the year.” It doesn’t roll off the tongue like “Black History Month”, but I kinda like it. 

(Did I mention that I love my friends? Because I really, REALLY do).

ANYWAYS: Stay tuned! As usual, there’s a fact buried in here someplace.