The end of my ass-

-load of convoluted thoughts for the week...

Church -- couple weeks ago, an article in the WashPost sparked some convo amongst friends on Black Men and the Black Church, and the reasons for their absence. I really wanted this to be a conversation among men -- in particular, those that are absent from church, and aside from posing questions, or responding to a direct question, I asked the women to refrain from giving their opinions. I didn't hear anything I hadn't heard before, and when I asked what it would take for Black men to return, no compelling responses were offered. They didn't wanna talk about it. I let it go, didn't think about it anymore until I sat in church today. During the altar call, a number of single women with children joined and the pastor asked for other single mothers to come stand by their sides as they made their confessions of faith. I chuckled to myself as I noticed half the pews seemed to empty as women strode forward with and without their children in tow, thinking, where are the fathers? Where are the men? Why are there soo many single mothers in this congregation, in this world? As I sit in church every week, I notice that there are fewer men that fill the pews than women, be they mothers or not, but that single request today, made it so glaringly obvious. Although we joke about the *shot glasses (communion), cover charge (tithing), and pickup potential (ratio of women:men) of Club Jesus (da chu'ch)*, the article presented some questions, for which I have yet to hear answers. And that isn't really all that funny.

Saturday night -- so ever since Pam had her own personal cooking contest, I have been clamoring for a way to get invited to a shindig. Got my wish this weekend, and was that ever a ball!! Meeting folks offline has always been a good experience for me; I'm pretty much a veteran of meet and greets and all that good stuff, so the chance to connect with a fellow blogger was welcome. Especially since I'm a newbie to the ATL, so anytime I get to meet some more folks, the better. I'd had an enjoyable sit down at the Blue Willow Inn earlier in the day, and needed some recovery time, so I got there a tad late -- you know, CP time. But, I finally arrived with my favorite 3-part-beverage and it was on! I'd be remiss if I didn't tell y'all that Pam can cook her azz off! I'm not a "cold food" connoisseur, so salads have never been heaped on my plate, but I couldn't get enough of the curry chicken salad!! And it's pretty common knowledge that I will cluck in my next life, due to my luv affair with the chicken, and Pam's chicken simply reinforced that reality for me. Very Very Good!! That said, admittedly, I haven't been caught up in the Hustle & Flow madness, so I hadn't *heard* Whoop That Trick, but I'd *heard about* it. To see it come to life was a riot...and yes, mis amigos, there IS videotaped evidence of the whoop that almost went through the door -- and lawd, haf mercy, had that happened, I'da been no.more.good!! ROFLMAOROFLMAOROFLMAO...whew!! Then we eased into some classic Maury, its always a baby daddy/dna story isn't it? I came to one conclusion watching story after story of man that cheated, slept with wifey's sister, got sister preggers, denies baby is his, woman that cheates repeatedly, neither of her children are her husbands, you know how it goes....and one common thread is that all these folks got FUCKED UP TEEFUS!!! There's got to be a link....and then I got to see, for the 1,423rd time, episode 1 of my favorite summertime entertainment -- B cubed. I never tire of Whitney and Bobby and crew. Never. The train wreck I will watch over and over and over again, because I stil can't believe this shit is televised. Always much more fun when the peanut gallery is full with lots of random commentary. Pam, and her friends are good fun to be around. I've admired her blog, her courageous and hilarious way of expressing herself, her exciting and joyful spirit, and appreciate the friendship we've begun.

Thanks girlfriend for the invite!

Labels --

mean.

harsh.

stern.

Just a few of the labels thrown at me this week...I prefer, direct, but brothas can't handle that. Guess they've never before been called out for the dumb shit they might say. So I'm the evil one for trying to cut to the chase and kill all the bullshit. Ay dios mio. It goes on and on and on...