rafi-dangelo

It’s that time of year again, time to give a collective eyeroll to the whole elitist natural hair movement. Look what I got in my inbox.

Thank you, Sista Scalp Treatment, but you do not know me.

These are the last pictures I took of my mom.

This is supercute, guys. I just cheered myself up.

A couple of years ago, I was visiting my parents in SC over the holidays. I think I stayed for 5 or 6 weeks. I was just over the snow in NYC and I wanted to escape somewhere warmer. Well, Mother Nature gave me a royal F-U and dumped buckets and buckets of snow on SC while I was visiting. It rarely snows down there, so my parents wanted to go outside and play. I, on the other hand, had seen enough snow that winter, so I stayed in the house in my robe. I took pics of them though! You can’t really see them that well, but it still makes me laugh.

Me & My Mom & Food.

It’s been a little over 7 months since I lost my Ma. Last night, I ate half a pan of brownies and finished watching season 2 of Knots Landing because something reminded me of her the day before Mother’s Day and I had a fit. This week has been rough, so I decided to treat myself and make brownies. While I was stirring the batter, I realized I hold my face the same way my mom used to whenever she made cakes.

My future drag name will be Tigris Euphrates.

#MesopotamianRealness

Are “whites only” & “no blks no azns” dating profiles actually racist?

I like to make jokes about it because it’s such a *thing* that you can’t help but laugh. To me, I just don’t understand it. How can you not be attracted to any person who is not white? How can you look at the wide variety of black men on this planet and say they are all uniformly unattractive? I think that’s crazy and it makes me chuckle.

But is it really racist? Let’s look at it from both sides.

Brooklyn Industries is awful.

Let me tell you about trying to get your money back from there because it is basically impossible.

There are no yeast rolls in NYC.

And I’m sick of it. I think I’ve finally reached my breaking point with all this hard-ass bread they put in front of you whenever you go to dinner in NYC.

I want.
A fucking.
Yeast. Damn. Roll.

Brooklyn still hates me and does not want me over there.

Y’all. Why is going to Brooklyn such a PROCESS. I cannot. I love my Brooklyn Buddies, but you just gon’ hafta visit me in the city because every time I try to go over there, Brooklyn is like “Negro please. You are not welcome.”