EarthWindFire82 of Memphis

So, I had like, 7 people ask me what the hell Planking was. I wish I had a really solid definition that was eloquent as hell, but I don’t. So here it is… …planking is the fine art of laying face down with your arms by your side on random crap… That’s it. Seriously. Nothing more..nothing less. A certain blogger and a few other people don’t really take to this new craze. The reason stated was that Blacks were taking to it and weren’t aware of the slavery reference. One blogger even inferred that our “mindless sheep” mentality was going to be the death of us. (The slavery definition of Planking involved stacking slaves face down like planks with their arms chained to their sides). Thing is, the craze itself so happens to share its name with a very dank practice, but appears to have no racist undertones. Since I’m a staunch supporter of the insanity that is Planking, I decided to do some research. Apparently, this game was allegedly invented in 1997 and ...

A Facebook friend of mine posted a status asking if a woman should have a right to get mad when they’re harassed for dressing of the sexy. Allow me to share my thoughts in mah own forum because I didn’t want to bo-guard his. Let me begin by saying this: SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND RAPE IS WRONG AS HELL NO MATTER WHAT THE HELL A WOMAN (OR MAN) IS WEARING! NOBODY “ASKS FOR IT”! Now, onto my thoughts. I think that some women these days have made things difficult for themselves. Some of them scream about wanting a husband and how they are “Divas”. They talk about how they aren’t going to let a man mistreat them and that they deserve respect. As they’re carrying on this conversation, they’re prepping to go to the club without a bra on, wearing leggings and a short shirt with no underwear. They would have spent mad grip on a hood ass hairdo with the most flammable of cheap weave and are about to leave their kid(s) with someone who is most likely irresponsible as h...

You know...fokes bother me. I think there is something really wrong with our good people. We tend to spend a great deal of time complaining and bitching about what a person does wrong. We don't have any qualms in telling someone that another person is a whore or a slut. Fokes will see a pregnant girl and shake our head at her, condeming her to a life of mediocrity and shame. Families will sit in circles talking about family members who are on drugs and strung out. But nobody ever asks "why". Why does that woman feel the need to be sexually open with whoever she feels like? Why did that young girl end up pregnant? Why did that relative get hooked on drugs? Well, nobody asks because it's not as interesting to find out anything. Research takes time and effort. The outcome isn't always as interesting as the hypotheses. I guess if it turned out that the young girl really felt as if she was in love with the father of her child and believed him w...

This morning before my Grandma picked up the kids for school, I heard a troubling exchange between middle school girls. From what I could see out my patio door, it was one smaller girl surrounded by 4 taller girls. I turned down the TV and listened. The ringleader, who I referred to as Baby D had a lot to get off her chest to the young girl. As a matter of fact, Baby D did most of the talking for a good minute. "I don't preshate you talking to my man, bitch. You think you all that, but you ain't shit! You think you bout something because you got good hair? Bitch, I'll snatch you baldheaded about mine. Don't be rolling your eyes at me either because I'll punch you in both eyes". "I'm not trying to get with your man! He is my partner in a project! That's all! Please stop with the crap before I call the police on you"! "Bitch, put that Cricket phone down! You'll be knocked out and I'll be long gone before you...

Again yall, I can't believe I allowed myself to resort to such foolery. I don't usually do that, but for some reason, it had to be done. Allow me to share the backstory for those who didn't catch the act... In September 2009, I took a picture of a gentleman with a very nice purse. The subtitle was "Really..." and I proceeded to compliment his purse. Only one person made mention of his lifestyle (as I am mindful that not all people are in agreement with the LGBT community), but we all remarked about his purse... ..not satchel.. Today, he added me as a friend. It wasn't until I saw he commented on the picture that I realized he took the pic as a slight. Instead of being a grown man and messaging me, he attacked me under the picture. Jones even called me a "fat Murtle Urkel"! LMAO! DUDE! Though I never once attacked his lifestyle, I admit that I went in on him because I didn't appreciate how he came at me. I didn't apprecia...

It's odd looking at this blog and wondering where I disappeared to for like two months. I realized that I didn't. It blew up. Like, it didn't cooperate. So, I'm going to be posting some of my greatest hits in that two month break...because yall don't want to foller me on Tumblr or whatnot. And this here is my stomping ground, too. Methinks this is called "Saturating the Market". I want EarthWindFire82 EVERYWHERE!!!

Allow me to begin by saying...I'm fat. I knew last Tuesday. I'll be fat again this Tuesday. Seeing as I am of the fat, I can share this good knowledge with thee. As it is hot as hell, I think we should address how to be fat in the summer. After all, everyone pissed on their resolutions back in March. Many big gals (and boys) have violated the fat rules already. In case you didn't know what said rules are, allow me to share: 1. Wear what you like, as long as it fits and you have proper undergarments. 2. Know your body's shape, flaws and all. 3. Lift and separate when washing. 4. Be confident 5. No need to talk about skinny fokes. Just the mean skinny fokes. Simple rules for fat fokes to live by. And in June, sumbitches have already pissed on the rules. Thus far, rules #1, #2 and #3 have been pissed on. Royally. Rule #1 gives you freedom to wear whatever the hell you want. That means if you are a size 28 and you find a dress your size, party on Wayne! HOWEVER...