Oh, No She Did…Didn’t? Should I Not Have Said That? And Should I Care?

Dude, longest title ever!

Anyway, it’s 2015.  I am planning on writing more. I haven’t been inspired recently.  But maybe I hadn’t been looking. So, let’s get into it straight away!  (Now I think I want to speak more Britishy from now on.)

Recently, a story, or rather, a picture showed up online of Malia Obama.  She appears to be a cool, normal looking teenager.

Of course it got a lot of press.  At least she wasn’t standing on her dog! Sidetrack, sorry. Anyway, caught a story on Facebook about exactly what I thought…cool, normal looking teenager.

So I immediately shared it and wanted to write: “Of course, she’s part white.” Or, “That’s the white girl in her!” To be funny.  As a joke.  Like how someone finding out that a half black/half white man had an above average sized penis, he would say “Yeah, that’s cuz he’s half black.”  C’mon! You know they would.

But I didn’t write that. Because I froze.  I actually texted a friend for her opinion but haven’t heard back. So that’s why I’m here. I had to share. (I’m also mortified that I care so much.)

Why didn’t I write that? I was afraid that I would hurt someone’s feelings or worse…be thought of as racist! I don’t really care because I’m not. But then again I just saw an article about how we are 3 times more racist than we think we are.

Oh crap. Really?  I honestly cannot claim to be 0% racist.  No one ever could. But let’s say I’m 1% racist. I think I’m 1% racist, ergo, I’m really 3% racist.

I think I can live with that. Live together in perfect harmony stuff… yeah.

But I get censored around Facebook.  A woman once unfriended me because when the photos of the Boston Marathon bombers came out, people were shouting about Muslim, but to me, I said, they looked Eastern European, like Ukrainian or Grecian.

Well she is Greek. And she let me know how disgusted she was and I was sort of flabbergasted. Because I wasn’t derogatory. I was just guessing.  Believe me, I’ve been around enough dark-haired men of different origins to gently squint my eyes at a blurry photo and go… Yup, that’s the Armenian Tom Cruise, remember him? Or whatever.

You guys gotta tell me:  If I said – Malia is cool cuz she’s a white girl. Duh.   Is that racist? If yes, why? Please see my example above about dicks.

I prefer Rudolph’s Shiny New Year over the original Christmas episode. Discuss.


This is Complete and/or Utter Bullshit

Tonight is the Boston Strong Concert.  Sold out in minutes. Going to be streaming live on the internet.

But for some reason…NOT GOING TO BE TELEVISED.

I’m sorry. But this is complete bullshit.  We have sat through concerts/benefits to raise money on TV for years!!

9/11, Haiti, Sandy, Oklahoma.

Can someone explain to me why this could not be a televised fundraiser for One Fund?

It’s a simple question.

I’m so bummed and insulted and angry.  Listen, I’ve already donated to One Fund many times over.  I already know how to donate. So technically I don’t need this show to do so.  But it would nice to see ALL the amazing talent that have come out of Boston ALL on one stage.

Oh well. Thanks for nothing liberal media.

(Hey, I needed to blame someone since I do not know whose fault this is)


PS. Where the fuck is New Edition??

“Mr Telephone Man, there’s something wrong with my line. When I dial my baby’s number, I get a click every time.”


Where Will You Be?

Today my city was attacked.

Patriot’s Day in Boston.  It’s Marathon Monday. Red Sox afternoon game. Lots of people who don’t have work or school. Sunny day. They gathered in Boston. So much to celebrate. Plenty of smiles. Children on the shoulders of their dads. Waves. Cheers. Hugs. Balloons. Flags Crossing the finish line – tears of joy.

A moment later…terror. World turned upside down. No more tears of joy; tears of sadness and horror.

So far, 3 people dead. One a child.  Over a 140 seriously injured.  Limbs gone. Sidewalk stained with blood.

I sat at my desk in work…and my heart was in my throat.  My city – Boston! I grew up there.  Only moved away a few years ago.  I touched my monitor screen, as if it were right in front of me. Reaching out – wanting to help, but nowhere near them. No. No…no…no. Please God…no! This cannot be happening. Not in my city.

Two explosions. The irony of people running in all directions along the route to the Finish Line of the Boston Marathon.

What are the odds that the families of the Newtown victims would be sitting at the Finish Line of the Boston Marathon when two bombs go off? Seriously…what are the odds of that?  Haven’t they been through enough, Fate?

Listen, it’s not about guns anymore. It’s not about bombs anymore. It’s about terror and murder.

Some don’t really understand why I don’t want to have kids. There are a plethora of reasons – genetics, annoyance, world overpopulation…but honestly…one of the reasons..what kind of world is this? Why would I subject someone to this?

Want to meet your congresswoman at the local supermarket in broad daylight? You could be murdered.

Excited about seeing a new movie at midnight at your local theater? You could be murdered.

Learning your ABC’s at school? You could be murdered.

Studying for your Chemistry 101 final? You could be murdered.

Flying in a plane to California? You could be  murdered.

Riding the train? You could be murdered.

Shopping for shoes at the mall? You could be murdered.

Enjoying a sunny spring day after watching the Red Sox win and now cheering your friend on while he runs the historic Boston Marathon? Yup, you could be murdered.

Doesn’t it seem like you have a really good chance of being killed just doing everyday normal things?!

Doesn’t that bother you?

Doesn’t that scare you?

That scares the shit out of you.  I suffered from severe anxiety after 9/11.  I was afraid of my train being gassed or bombed underground.

An 8-year old boy died on Boylston Street today.

My nephew is 8 years old. Should I never take him to the city? Should I never take him to the movies? Should I never let him go to school?

Of course not.

But please know…please understand…this is our life now.

There is no rhyme.  There is no reason. You don’t have to be in a gang. You don’t have to be in the mob. You don’t have to be a in a drug deal gone wrong.

You just have to be watching a marathon, meeting you congresswoman, eating popcorn at the movies, trying to color with crayons between the lines…and it can happen.

Don’t you feel like it will happen?

It’s only a matter of time before your Lucky Life Russian Roulette is going to land on the empty chamber.

Think about it.

I do.

Where will I be?

KFC?  A dog park?  Disneyland?  The beach?  Tying my shoe at the Museum of Fine Arts?  Toys R Us a week before Christmas?  Standing outside the window at the Today show?  Having lunch with my mom?  Holding the hand of my nephew as we watch the runners reach for the Finish Line of the 117th Boston Marathon?

Where will you be?

Boston you’re my home. I love you.