My son, Briam, likes to dance. He asked me to make a video of him and put it on Youtube.
Kid has moves! This will make you smile :)
In a perfect world, both Lauryn Hill and Beyoncé Knowles-Carter would have their different choices celebrated, would share the spotlight, and would make alternate appearances in mainstream media. Instead, the ascendancy of one star and the decline of another reveals what Patricia Hill Collins describes as the “politics of containment” concerning the hypervisibility of African American women – in which certain icons are singly, rather than simultaneously, promoted – which is also used to render invisible the multiple forms of oppression that intersect in the lives of the majority of black women in this country, and throughout the world. By placing the two icons alongside each other, we have an opportunity to examine the treatment of high-profile black women in the public sphere and intersect racial and sexual politics.
Five simple fucking ingredients in this bitch right here. This is some good shit to make when you are feeling bougie as fuck. High-fructose corn syrup? Naw son, I don’t play that. Hit this with some vodka though, different story. Max relax.
5 cups of water
1/2 -3/4 cup sugar (yeah, it is fucking lemonade. without the sugar it is just real sour fucking water)
3/4 cup Meyer lemon juice, about 6 lemons (you can just use the regular lemons at the store too, not a dealbreaker)
juice of half a lime
4 sprigs of fresh lavender
Bring the water to a boil in a medium pot. Add the sugar and simmer that shit on a low heat for about 5 minutes. Make sure to stir it on the regular. The sugar should be all dissolved in the water by now with no little fucking grains rolling around in there. Turn off the heat and stir in the lemon juice, lime juice, and lavender. Let it cool until it is around room temperature. Take the lavender pieces out but use a fucking spoon and not your fingers if you are going to serve that shit to other people. Put the lemonade in the fridge to cool down all the way. Serve with lemon wedges and a pinch of dried lavender if you want it to look fucking impressive.
makes about 1 quart of chill the fuck out
Gentlemen. This is what rape culture is like:
Imagine you have a Rolex watch. Nice fancy Rolex, you bought it because you like the way it looks and you wanted to treat yourself. And then you get beaten and mugged and your Rolex is stolen. So you go to the police. Only, instead of investigating the crime, the police want to know why you were wearing a Rolex instead of a regular watch. Have you ever given a Rolex to anyone else? Is it possible you wanted to be mugged? Why didn’t you wear long sleeves to cover up the Rolex if you didn’t want to be mugged?
And then after that, everywhere you go, there are constant jokes about stealing your Rolex. People you don’t even know whistle at your Rolex and make jokes about cutting your hand off to get it. The media doesn’t help either; it portrays people who wear Rolexes as flamboyant assholes who secretly just want someone to come along and take that Rolex off their hands. When damn, all you wanted was to wear a nice watch without getting harassed for it. When you complain that you are starting to feel unsafe, people laugh you off and say that you are too uptight. Never mind you got violently attacked for the crime of wearing a friggin time piece.
Imagining all that? It sucks, doesn’t it.
Now imagine you could never take the Rolex off.
Rape culture is having to use an object to explain what we go through when our bodies are violated.
I like the object comment too.
The plain state of being human is dramatic enough for anyone; you don’t need to be a heroin addict or a performance poet to experience extremity. You just have to love someone.
—Nick Hornby - How To Be Good (via derekandcam)