We’re in season 4 of this pandemic, and the writers are getting desperate. First, it was complete and total lockdown. Our schools ceased to operate, we almost had to resort to using our favorite old t-shirts to wipe our own asses, and we were washing our groceries, of all things. […]
If you’re wondering how folks are coping with this election anxiety the answer is simple- no so good, bitch!
One can only hope that the museum is run by powerful sorcerers and psychics, and that this very fitting trash effigy is a sign of things yet to come.
Tonight, I’m thankful that Big Gretch is safe, but tomorrow, some shit has got to change.
Yes, my children are in a pod. A pod not every parent can afford, but a pod that is best for my children, who are Black. So take your judgment elsewhere.
I miss them when they’re gone, but sometimes it’s important to realize that life is bigger than sports.
Raising an introvert is hard. Raising a Black son is often terrifying. Raising one who is both presents a special set of challenges for a mother.
You know the meme. It starts with “literally no one.” And after that you can insert absolutely ANYTHING that Kanye West does.