We Can All Learn from Tiger Tiger Woods Yall!

Well well well. Mr. Eldrick Woods has got the internet going nuts (c) Paul Wall. Seems like everyday since Elin Woods took a putter to Tiger's forehead, a new skeezer has popped out of the woodwork to publicly proclaim that Tiger has been serving them that good Cablanasian penile. Most of us are shocked at just how strong Tiger's pimp hand is. We're finding out all types of awkward salacious tidbits about the golfer's sex life but I think we're finding out so much more about ourselves. Here are some things I've learned while watching the Tiger Woods debacle unfold.

1) Hoe-shit is aye-ok, just don't get caught.

"Leave Tiger alone. Everybody cheats, he just got caught." Oh, how many times have I heard this over the last couple of weeks? As a society we have sanctioned infidelity. It is nothing to be shocked about or even ashamed of anymore. Don't worry about knocking up another chick or bringing home some deadly disease to your family, just don't get caught. And getting caught probably wouldn't even be a big deal if these fools weren't worried about having to pay Nas-Kelis type money after the divorce. Marriage is such a joke in this country. (see: I Pity The Fool)

2) We make excuses for celebs.

"Oh, you don't understand what it's like to be the world's most recognizable athlete. Think about all the pressure he's under." Ok, Tiger's under a lot of pressure, so what's your cheating ass excuse? PEOPLE cheat on their significant others EVERYDAY and it has nothing to do with a Nike contract. Tiger Woods is a man and should be held accountable as one. Stop making excuses for that fool.

3) Domestic violence is ok when a woman is doing the beating.

If Tiger had gone after Elin with a GOLF CLUB, he'd get the OJ treatment, straight up. She goes after him with a golf club and we make jokes. Resorting to violence to settle a dispute is not ok, ever, no matter what you're packing in your pants. Why don't we understand this???

4) We don't expect much from our men.

Self control is beyond them in our eyes. It is simply too much to ask a man to not sleep around. I don't think this is true. These are MEN, not children. They have a choice in what they stick their dicks in. How about y'all choose to stick it in YOUR WIFE instead of any ol' blonde working at Starbucks?

I was listening to the 2 Live Stews one day and a caller says, "Lebron, do NOT marry that girl until your career is over!" Riiiiiiiiiight... because Lebron James doesn't have control of his body while he's playing in the NBA? So, you want him sleeping around now and then going back to Cleveland to lay-up with his live-in girlfriend and mother of his two children? (She's gorgeous, by the way. I just adore them as a couple!) We should be encouraging family building and discouraging dangerous and destructive activities like sleeping with random broads on the road. Am I missing something?

5) Sleeping with another woman's husband isn't worthy of disdain and should be flaunted.

*cough* Alicia Keys *cough* All of these women couldn't WAIT to get on TV and tell the tale of how they slept with the very married Tiger Woods. I think something has to be awry in your life to sleep with another woman's husband in the first place but you REALLY need help if you are proud enough to go public with it. When did home wrecking become cute? Why aren't we calling these whores what they are? Nooooooo... yall want to interview them and give them their 15 minutes... We encourage this mess when we stop calling a spade a spade or in this case, a tramp a tramp.

I hope Tiger and his family get it together. I gave up on him after the whole Cablanasian thing, so I'm not hopeful. The outlook is especially bleak since he paid Elin $80 MILLION to stay with him... Paying someone to be with you? [sigh] Oh, Tiger... That's another discussion for another day. For now, how about we all focus on being faithful to our partners and saving ourselves all the unnecessary drama (and money in some cases). If you can't do that, just stay single, folks!

A Favorite Verse from the Great Cee-Lo Green

The entire song is worth quoting but Cee-lo's part on Outkast's "In Due Time" gives me life:

Struggling is just a part of my day

Many obstacles been placed in my way

I know the only reason that I make it through

Is because I never stop believing in you

Some people wonder why we're here in the 1st place

They can't believe because they ain't never seen your face

But even when you pray, the next day you gotta try

Can it wait for nobody to come down out the sky

You've got to realize that the world's a test

You can only do your best and let him do the rest

You've got your life, you've got your health

So quit procrastinating and push it yourself

You've got to realize that the world's a test

You can only do your best and let him do the rest

You've got your life, you've got your health

So quit procrastinating

Don't Save 'Em! S. Lake's Guide to Spotting a Gold Digger

Fresh off the joining in "holy" matrimony of NBA player Lamar Odom and Khloe Kardashian (what is her title exactly?) it is becoming more and more apparent that high profile guys and girls either don't care about getting with a gold digger or don't know how to spot one. It's awfully hard to believe that after being in the game for more than a day you wouldn't be able to spot the money hungry, but we continue to see millionaires hooking up with people that are clearly in it for the loot. Some of these fools are clearly making a choice to turn a blind eye while their mate digs in them pockets but some of these cats are just gullible. I borderline feel sorry for the naive men and women who suddenly come into fame and money and are then forced to decipher the real from the fake with no experience, so I came up with S. Lake's Guide to Spotting a Gold Digger to help them out. It's pretty common sense but hey, common sense aint common. Here we go! (FYI: I'm addressing men for the most part in this post but it applies to women as well. Gold digging knows no gender! Also, even if you don't have gold digger issues now, you might hit the lotto tomorrow, so read it anyway!) 

1) No job/career = No can do!

THE SYMPTOMS: The goal is to identify the person who is most likely to date you solely for your income or celebrity. Let's be honest about this. "Aspiring" models, singers, actors, etc. have the most to gain from dating a celebrity. Be wary of anyone trying to break into your field or a field related to yours. There is probably an ulterior motive there! If you're dating the unemployed or someone in a dead end job, you clearly have "Captain Save-A-Hoe" written on your forehead. The motive is clear in this case and you might need to take some time away from dating to read a book. This point may seem elementary but look at Kanye West and Amber Rose... Yeah, no further explanation needed. 

THE REMEDY: Date women with REGULAR JOBS. (I'm biased but it's true). Even chicks established in the industry can be diggers... they will date you, not for money, but for publicity. A teacher doesn't care about that mess, she's trying to get lil' Ray Ray to stop saying "polices." "Police" is already plural, Ray Ray!!

2) Are her actions screaming at you?

THE SYMPTOMS: It is imperative that you assess the circumstances under which you met your potential mate. Where did you meet them and what were they doing? Bumming drinks in VIP? Hmmm... Oh, so you met her through a friend? How is it that she knows the man next to THE man? Ok, so you met her at the gym. Is she steady dropping names and telling you about who she knows? Is she obsessed with designer labels and "the finer things"? How much of her time is spent dreaming about "the good life"? These are things you have to pay attention to while you're rapping a chick up for the first time. 

THE REMEDY: Clearly not every chick in the club is a gold digger. Many women just want to drop down low and sweep the flo wit it sometimes. But if the broad is all in VIP in your face rather than doing her own thing, she might be a digger. Check for the chicks that are having a good time rather than sweating you. Check for the chicks who have something to talk about OTHER than what money and celebrity can bring. Ladies don't want no Shallow Hal, so fellas, stay away from the Shallow Sistas. 

3) Birds of a feather...

THE SYMPTOMS: We all know the saying, "Birds of a feather flock together." Generally, this is true so it would behoove you to take a look at her homegirls before deciding to wife a chick. If your boy has run up in all of her friends... RUN! If her crew knows the bouncers at the club on a first name basis... WATCH OUT! If her friends are dating athletes or entertainers... ACTIVATE THAT SIDE EYE!

THE REMEDY: Every girl has at least one rat friend but if ALL of her friends fail the gold digger test, keep your eyes open. Take a look at her crew. If they're not sweating you like your ish don't stink, she might have a well grounded circle and is more likely NOT to be a jersey chaser.

4) Is she a Ride or Die Chick or just a Digger?

THE SYMPTOMS: I'm not really one for shacking up but if that's your thing, go for it, but BE CAREFUL. If she's extra eager to drop everything to become totally dependent on you... that's not cute, that's a digger! Don't be fooled thinking she wants to be closer to you... that broad just don't wanna work! Does she have her own identity? Does she want you to create one for her? Open your eyes, sir! This goes hand in hand with point #1. A chick with no job and/or real career goals will be more willing to leave it all to mooch. A woman with goals outside of getting wifed by a millionaire may have some reservations about abandoning her dreams to sit front row at Fashion Week. 

THE REMEDY: Nothing is more important than finding a mate who has goals and is actively chasing them rather than chasing another person's pockets. If you can find a chick who is focused on completing a task, whether it's grad school, writing a book (not the Super Head kind, though), or getting that promotion, she's less likely to dig for your gold and dig for her own. 

THE BOTTOM LINE: Stop tricking on sight! Get to know a chick before you wife her, spend your cheese, or raw dog! (Who does that anyway??? *cough* Lil Wayne *cough*) And if you'd stop rationing the D out like government cheese (© Alexyss K. Tylor) you'd be less likely to get whipped by a digger. Here's an idea, get to know a chick before you bed her. So if your going to be sprung you can at least be sprung off a real woman and not a gold digger. 

Ok, that's all I got. If you know of any other ways to spot a gold digger, post in the comments and help these fools out!

I Pity The Fool

Ok, so the news of the weekend was Los Angeles Laker Lamar Odom won the Championship this year and then went on to lose his mind, apparently. He went and married Khloe Kardashian (yes, the not-cute one) after dating her for a whopping 30 days. [Insert WTF side eye here]. And word on the street is no prenup was signed. Lawda'mercy! I didn't know they made this level of stupid in 2009.

Not only is it dumb (as hell) to wife up ANY chick after 30 days but Khloe's track record is EXTRA shady. Odom is her THIRD professional athlete this year. She dated the Minnesota Timberwolve's guard, Rashad McCants, and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers' running back, Derrick Ward. [Someone queue up track #4 on Kanye's "Late Registration," please!] Oh, and we can't forget 106 & Park's Terrence J! She locked lips with him recently on her reality show "Kourtney & Khloe Take Miami." Now, somehow Lamar thought homegirl was wifey material.

This clearly goes to show that New Yorkers aren't as street smart as they claim. I wonder what the boys back in Queens are saying about L. Odom these days? I'd assume the term "dumbass" has passed through their lips over the past week.

The last I heard, Odom was with the his long-term girlfriend, Liza Morales. The woman who bore his three children. The woman who suffered with him after the death of their infant son, Jayden, in 2006. So, Lamar, you'd rather marry an attention whoring skeezer than the mother of your children? [sigh] Let me stop judging. I have no clue how long Lamar and Liza have been separated and for what reasons they split. I admit though, I don't understand how people have multiple children by someone and won't commit, then get with the next bird to fly by and suddenly can't wait to walk down the aisle! The logic in this evades me.

I think this is the part that gets me most about this whole Odom-Kardashian thing. I identify with the "hold you down chick" who gets overlooked for the skeezer. These athletes and entertainers talk so much about avoiding golddiggers and then they go and pull this foolishness. They do this willingly and knowingly. I'm at a loss. Someone help me understand what is going on here. Do they even know?

Sucks to be Me

You hate me, don't you? Just admit it. Say it! You won't say it. Well, I know the truth. You hate me.

How do I know you hate me? You tried to stuff me in a box the other day. You know I can't breathe in there! Don't deny it... yes, yes you did try to stuff me in a box! What box? The beauty box. Don't roll your eyes, you know what I'm talking about! Yes you do... Remember when you tried to make me feel like I was unworthy? When you held up her beauty as the standard while mine was sub par? You don't know what I'm talking about, now? Well I remember. I remember when you weren't shit if you weren't "exotic" or "long haired, thick, redbone."

You know how else I know you hate me? You don't love me. You don't want to love me. You shun love like the plague. I'm a bitch or hoe rather than a lady or a woman. To be a "pimp" is to be triumphant in your world. You don't need me and you're not afraid to let me know. You'd rather "fuck every girl in the world" than build a life with me. If that's not hate...

You don't leave what you love... but you always leave me here... to try to raise the future all by my lonesome. What a hateful soul you are! So now, not only do you hate me, but you hate your children and cause them to hate me too. They say they love me but they slaughter each other like hogs... I guess maybe to hate your own is hereditary...

That shit must be contagious cuz guess what? I hate me too...

A Generation is Drowning

The story of the tragic demise of Derrion Albert, the 16 year old honor student killed by a vicious mob while gawking onlookers stood idly by, has my stomach in knots. I didn't watch the video of his death. My heart can't take it. I'm barely able to handle reading about it without spiraling into a state of hopelessness. I don't understand how we can do this to each other. How could you beat someone to death over nothing? How could you videotape a child being killed? I'm fighting tears at the thought. I pray that young Derrion is now without pain and is at peace but my tears are not only for the loss of his life and for the pain his family is being forced to bear. My tears are for these children who have become un-feeling drones. It is not natural to live this way but a disregard for life has become second nature to generations.

Killing each other for the smallest affront to our egos is not new. I remember the 80's when you'd get killed for stepping on someone's Nikes. Gang violence isn't new either and certainly isn't unique to the streets of Chicago where Derrion Albert was murdered. No, this insanity is not new but it's still not ok. This happens everyday but somehow I have not become numb. And for that I'm thankful. I pray I never end up like these kids. I pray my soul is never drowned in a state of hopelessness and anger. These babies are drowning and taking their peers down with them.

No Tears Today

I'm back in Minneapolis throwing a surprise retirement party for my dad today. For 35 years, he worked for Honeywell, Inc, and last week he worked officially at Honeywell for the last time. He has already received his first retirement check and plans to have a copy of the check framed. Excited isn't a strong enough adjective to describe my dad's mood, lately.

Family and friends have traveled from miles around to come celebrate this next chapter in my dad's life. You can't help but get excited at the possibilities that retirement will bring for him. He plans to build a house near my grandfather's in Arkansas. No, I don't mean have builders come and do it... I mean, he and his band of brothers will build a house with their own hands. They're an unusually handy bunch of men, so I have no doubt the goal will be accomplished and we'll throw another party. This time, a house warming.

The house is full of guests, with more to come, so much so that I haven't slept in my own room. My uncle from Arkansas is sleeping in the bedroom with the 2Pac and Allen Iverson posters everywhere, while I sleep on a cot in the living room. I don't mind at all but it reminds me of this very day five years ago, a day sometimes I wish I could forget.

June 6, 2004 is the day we buried my mother in Glen Alan, MS. We had two funeral services for her. One in Minneapolis and one in Mississippi. Much of our family came to stay with us during the time of the funeral in Minneapolis. I gladly offered up my bedroom to my aunt and uncle. I found some comfort in sleeping on a pallet in the living room with my cousins. I barely wanted to go upstairs and walk past the bedroom where the death angel came to claim my mom.

I couldn't avoid it long as I was given the task of pickng out her undergarments to send to Estes Funeral Home. I tried to make it quick but soon found myself sobbing on the floor in a ball of grief. It seemed like the strangest things set me off.

My cousins went around to newspaper dispensers in the city to collect the day's paper with my mother's obituary in it. I was lying on my little pallet of comfort when I heard someone come in and place the papers on the table. My heart started racing and my breathing got eratic. All I heard in my mind was, "The newspaper don't lie. The newspaper don't lie." I shot up off the floor and ran to the bathroom. I tried to muffle my cries but soon my cousins were at the door, knocking, and begging for me to open it. They were afraid I would faint and hit my head but I was just concerned with my dad not waking up to my tears.

I don't see any irony in celebrating my dad's retirement on the 5-year anniversary of my mother's internment but it has suddenly swept in a wave of emotions that I'd rather suppress. I don't want to feel like this today. I don't want to miss her this much today. Sarah, no tears today.