On Tuesday, June 12, 2012, I am shaving my head completely -Mr. Clean- bald.

I’ve been blessed to have a lot of hair. I’ve had it all of my life & I realize that I take it for granted. There are people with hair that they adore that lose it to cancer treatments, skin conditions & various diseases… & with it goes their self-cofidence & often their self-esteem as well.

And then there is me… head full of long, thick hair that I hardly comb & always complain about. I realized that I have taken for granted what God has given me. I figured if I am not going to appreciate it then I should give it to someone that will. On my 30th birthday, June 12, 2012, I will shave my head. BALD. Like with a razor. I’m donating it to Locks of Love.

I’m sure I’m going to look like a freshly boiled albino egg.



(written September 13, 2007)

Jason Flowers is a very smart man. Intelligent, educated, witty, charming- doesn’t apply himself to shit- but brilliant none the less. Some girl in the 90s reminded R. Kelly of his Jeep. Not too long ago, Jason called me a classic car.
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I’m a Detroiter (Motor City)… so I was flattered… but I don’t think he realized how fucking profound this really was. It made me think. I love to think.

You can go to, hmmmm, lets say Miami (no pun intended), and you’ll see all the “Ol Schools” (as us Detroiters like to call them) you want. Problem is, alot of people love to fuck them up with glitter paint, big ass unnecessary tires, and feel like they are really not shit til its so much speaker equiptment in the trunk that you cant hear the voices in your head telling you that you have fucked up something that could have been forever. Now there is nothing wrong with a lil touch up paint, or some new tires but these are the beautiful girls that have brainwashed/plasticsurgery/lacefrontweaved/contacted/MACcountered/fakenailed/indianhaired themselves up into trying to be what they think niggas want when they were really the shit before… and didnt even know it.

…the niggas that ARE smart enough to not fuck their classics up with paint that looks like ghetto nailpolish from the ’90s, lock them up in their garages to collect dust while they run lights in their 760s. Don’t get me wrong, the BMW 760 is a beautiful car but there are THOUSANDS of those on the streets but when you neglect your classic, your REAL shit, that will still be around when your lease is up, when BMW makes a 765, if your money get bad and your life has to downgrade… don’t expect the engine to still run. It wants to because it will always love you, but it can’t…
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get it?

Continue BlamingCristal for YOU REMIND ME OF MY JEEP



I’ve walked, volunteered, & fundraised for breast cancer for years & never really has a story… Until this year… I lost my husband to breast cancer. No need to RIP, because he never died. Shit he never proposed. Let me explain.

I’m the girl that never imagined herself married… Who couldn’t fathom a man I’d consider spending my life with and let alone him feeling the same… until I met him… on a whim on a random Tuesday in November of 2010. He was everything I’d ever imagined & best of all, he felt the same about me. He made me feel like greatness. Like potential. Like everything I hadn’t accomplished was attainable & everything I had was success.

And then his mom got diagnosed… and her disease was our divorce. All in all, I learned a very important lesson: You don’t have to be infected to be affected.

So this year, on October 29, 2011 I will walk in remembrance of the way he made me feel, for a cure for the disease that destroyed our potential, & for his mom & all of the strong women & men that have survived what I hope no one else will have to endure the pain of losing anyone or anything else to.

Fuck cancer. Join me in the fight.