Monday, August 25, 2014


Justice, a noble little corgi, grew up in Kansas City.

He was cute and loved to be rubbed on his tummy.

He also had a rough upbringing, making him cautious and overprotective. But let's not hold that against him.

One morning, on his normal 3AM patrol of the house, Justice heard something scratching at the door. He trotted over to sniff out the situation, ears pointed and head low, and that's when he knew someone was trying to break in.

Immediately he began to bark, snarling at whatever was on the other side until the stranger retreated. 

The chaos woke his owners.

"Hey! Be quiet!" Janelle admonished. "People are trying to sleep."

Justice put his nose to the ground. 

Old Spice.

Janelle dragged him away and put him in their bedroom for the night. Justice didn't hear anything else, but he stayed awake pacing.

It was two days later when it happened again. 3AM and the smell of Old Spice was filling his nostrils. This time it was at the window. 

Justice jumped on the window sill and barred his teeth. He couldn't see anyone, but he could hear footsteps running away.

"Get down you crazy pup!" Brandon commanded. "You're imagining things."

But he wasn't imagining things. Someone was there.

Justice found himself shut in the kitchen, held back by a baby gate. His owners had gotten complaints from the neighbors about the noise, so he had to stay in there at night. But he couldn't sleep. After all, it was his job to protect the family.

Scratch, scratch.

'What's that?!' Justice froze, listening closely.

Scratch, scratch. Crrreeeeeek!

The door was opening. Someone was in the house!

Old Spice.

Justice peered through the holes in the gate and saw a pair of black boots. 

Dogs have excellent night vision.

'What can I do?' He thought. 'If I bark, I'll get in trouble but I can't let them near my people!"

Justice took a deep breath.

A dog's gotta do what a dog's gotta do.

Head down and chubby legs bolting at full speed, Justice rammed the gate open and charged towards the intruder.

The stranger tried to run from him, but it was no use. Justice had him by the leg and was not letting go.

"Ow, ow! Let go!"

Bite, bite, bite!

The stranger knocked over a lamp, and pulled down the curtains trying to escape.

"What's all that noise?" Brandon and Janelle ran from their room and saw Justice wrestling with the intruder.

"Oh my gosh!" Janelle screamed.

"I'm calling the police!" Brandon said.

Ten minutes later, the cops were taking the man away in handcuffs.

"Good boy, Justice! You're a hero!" Janelle and Brandon petted his tummy for a whole hour, and gave him his favorite treats.

Justice was featured on the news, in the paper, and even on Facebook! The news reporter told the town of his courage and bravery.

"That just goes to show you, folks, you can't keep a good dog down. Three cheers for Justice!"

Hip hip, hurray!

Hip Hip, Hurray!


Friday, August 15, 2014


"Irene, you know she's always been crazy that way."
"Who Diane?"
"Kasey. Complete psycho."
"Really? I never would have guessed."
"She killed him, you know."
"I know Kasey. Who did she kill?"
"Who the heck is Mike?"
"Her younger brother."
"The entire town was talking about it."
"What did she do?"
"Killed her brother."
"How, how did she kill him?"
"With a hammer."
"What happened?"
"With the hammer."
"What hammer?"
"The one Kasey used."
"When she killed her brother."
"Which one?"
"Mike! Kasey killed Mike!"
"How did you know?"
"You just told me!"

"Ma'am, it's time to take your medicine."
"Good, take me away from this lunatic!"

The nurse rolled Irene down the long hallway of the nursing home. Diane leaned over and whispered to Jillian.

"You know Jill, she's always been crazy that way."


If you're like many Americans, you've convinced yourself that in this country everyone has the same opportunities and that there is absolutely no excuse for failure in our land of the free. If you work hard, really hard, you can be successful, right?

If you agreed to any of the statements listed above, you could be prejudice.

Let me explain.

Close your eyes. Imagine you see an American man wearing a suit. You might think "Oh, he must be a business man at some company or a banker or something."

Now be completely honest: What was the race of the American man in your mind?

Typically when people (especially white people) are asked to imagine or describe a business man whose American, they see him as white.

When you picked up Harry Potter, did you read anywhere in there that he was white? No, because it was assumed by both the author and the reader. A sprinkle of other races were present, but they had to be pointed out to the reader.

Am I calling J. K. Rowling racist? Absolutely not. In fact, she is an artist I admire quite a bit. I'm making a point.

Here's another example. Name the first scary movie that comes to your mind. Now, tell me, who was the first person to die? I'm willing to bet that it was probably a black person, if there were any casted with speaking roles that is.

This perpetuates the ideas that black people's lives aren't valued. On the news, they're only shown killing each other, so to make the movie more authentic, they should have a shorter lifespan, right?

Yes, I know what you're thinking. In Alien vs. Predator the black girl is the only survivor. That's a cinema enigma.

Not convinced? Okay, how about this angle. Readers and movie viewers fall in love with characters and almost feel like they've have a relationship with this person. They are written to be loved, hated, envied, pitied, etc. So, how many minority characters have you fell in love with?

I'm not saying that you don't know because you're prejudice, I'm saying they weren't written for you to love. 

They were probably fillers to the story. Flat characters used as props or comedic purpose.

How many movies with a majority of minority cast members have you ever watched that didn't include gang members, a comedic crack head, a crazy grandmother figure, or a pitiful juvenile holding on to his dreams of becoming a professional athlete?

Probably not many, because, those are black movies.

Wait, did you really just think that?

Do you think that when a minority goes to the movie, they believe films without minority leads aren't for them to watch?

Aren't these coincidences strung together in some ridiculous plot to blame the so called "man"?

If you answered yes to the latter, you are probably someone who enjoys white privilege.

Example: When you walk into a room of strangers and meet someone for the first time, however they experience you is what they think of YOU and YOU ALONE. But if you meet an Asian, you automatically think back to all the asians you've ever encountered to look for common ground, or you feel it important to ask them about cultural issues that THEY can relate to.

Why does the only asian at the party represent their entire race and you only represent yourself? Do people ask YOU about white people issues?

White people issues? You're probably wondering what those even are.

So why do we think it's appropriate to ask strangers these kinds of questions?

Here's the worse I've ever witnessed and do witness way too often.

My friend is 100% Indian, not Native American, Indian. People automatically think he's Mexican for some reason, and when he says he's not, do they apologize for their ignorance? No. They ask "Oh, well what are you?"


I have another friend whose Korean who is constantly called Chinese and a Puerto Rican friend who is told that she is the same as a Mexican.

Those are two completely different countries and dialects!

The worse part of it all is that the people responsible for hiring, firing, approving, authorizing, and denying decisions that affect our livelihood have these same thoughts.

Isn't that terrifying? 

I didn't write this to upset you, start mess, or use the internet as a soap box. I wrote it to open to your eyes to prejudice in 2014. I'm not saying that any of it is your fault, or that you are a bad person.

I'm not even calling you prejudice. (I don't know you)

I'm calling it to your attention because it means we all still have work to do. Civil rights issues among minorities are very much alive and we need to detox our minds from the filth of the past so we can see clearly. Interact without predetermined judgements of someone's character based on their race. Give people a real chance to show you who they really are.

Give people a chance to actually feel free.

Thursday, August 14, 2014


We the gold diggers of America have come together willingly and freely, as is our constitutional right to assemble, for the purpose of declaring what will become the national standard for anyone seeking to marry for money. If anyone seeks to join our ranks, they simply need to apply these truths to their daily lives and they will claim their dependence.

I. Dedicated to being arm candy

  • A true gold digger knows that one must always look their best because the opportunity to meet a rich prince/princess charming can appear at any moment
  • No expense is too great to upgrade one's looks; Investments to alter one's teeth, physique, and turkey neck are necessary evils that must be made
  • Most importantly, one must never have bad breath, even in the mornings

II. Dedicated to being smart

  • In order to find the perfect Mr./Mrs. Right, one must be up to date on all of the city's most eligible bachelors/bachelorettes and be able to identify them by description, occupation, and passions
  • Research is mandatory to discover their ideal 'type' by applying their past mates to memory and making oneself fit that mode
  • For best results, one will take interest in one of the discovered passions for an authentic feel
  • Gold digger decree: NEVER  sign a prenup without your own attorney!! Make sure that  if divorce occurs, you at least walk away with no less than 10 years of comfortable living expenses so you'll have enough time to find the next Mr./Mrs. Right

III. Dedicated to being charismatic

  • To impress your future sugar daddy/sugar mama, gold diggers must commit to development in interpersonal skills. Being a bitch is no longer attractive (Unless their into that sort of thing)
  • Loyal friends are on the look out for our kind, so if you can charm their friends, you got them!

IV. Dedicated to being strategic

  • Gold diggers reserve the right to only hang out at fundraising events, bars at luxury hotels, sporting events, and any excuse to get dressed up in the city
  • Gold diggers never look for mates at house parties, the club, concerts, or blind dates
  • And we NEVER let our families hook us up with anyone

V. Dedicated to being accommodating

  • Commitment to a lifestyle that revolves around our companion is non-negotiable. If they want to go to the opera, we don't complain. If they like the rodeo, we buy cowboy hats. If they enjoy comic con, we put on the sexiest Pikachu outfit we can find online (Then we burn it)
  • We support the dreams of our partners, unless it goes against our morals (and we most certainly have morals and values)

VI. Dedicated to being genuine

  • Just because we marry for money, doesn't mean we don't deserve true love. Gold diggers who want true happiness only allow themselves to commit to wealthy individuals we are actually attracted to: physically, mentally, and spiritually. This is the true meaning to our right to pursue happiness
This is America, land of the free, and gold diggers have the right to thrive in this beautiful country just as much as anyone else. Our lives will be fueled by a new method of self sufficiency by finding a partner who supplies us with our every need because of our dedication to making ourselves the perfect partner; loyal, generous, and beautiful. This is our American dream. 

This is our Declaration of Dependence!

Tuesday, August 12, 2014


I woke up, like any other weekday, and rolled out of bed to make my husband's lunch while he freshened up in the bath room. Through the blinds on my patio, I saw a guy getting out of this black, tented truck on the street with a huge headlights. He left the door wide open and walked into his building. Well, after 30 minutes, I thought he wasn't coming back and being the good neighbor I am, I decided to go outside and close his door for him.

Why can't I just mind my own business and be selfish like the rest of the world?

I pranced my considerate behind down the stairs and out the front gate to do my good deed. The moment I touched the handle, a big black german shepherd popped his head up in the back seat, teeth bared and growling. I wanted to run, scream, anything to escape, but I couldn't move. My feet were cemented to the pavement and my voice was trapped in my throat like slow dripping molasses. I swear the dog could hear my heart pounding because his upper lip trembled in tune with its beating.

The beast leaped across the armrest. Hitting me square in the chest, he pinned me to the street and ferociously barked and snarled. Drool and fear were all over my face and I just knew that I was going to die.

He bit me!

My cries of agony did nothing but agitate the monster, and he ripped a giant hole in my robe, damage no doubt that was reserved for me. Adrenaline finally stepped in at the sight of my ruined clothes, and somehow I was able to kick the dog off of me. I stood with my hands in fists and glared at my attacker.

"If you come near me again, I'm going to kick your ass!"

The dog jumped at me. I dodged him and in one graceful move, brought my foot on top of neck, slamming him against the street.

"How do you like it?! Huh?!"
At last I was in control when--

"Step away from the dog and put your hands up!"

Click, click.

To my horror, I came face to face with the barrel of a gun, the owner of the car pointing it directly at me.

"Your dog nearly killed me! Look at my arm!"

"I'm warning you! If you don't comply I'll be forced to act with brute force!"

"Who the hell are you?! This is illegal."

"I'm with the Dallas Police Department, Canine Unit, and you're under arrest for assaulting an officer!"

The next thing I know, I'm in handcuffs and in the back of a squad car. WTF!