Book Review: Black is the New White

Let me tell yall why I love Paul Mooney:

• He's unapologetically Black
• He constantly refers to himself as good-looking
• His outlook on everyday issues like racism are hilarious yet spot on

Basically, Paul Mooney is me.

This book is about Paul Mooney's struggle to make it in Hollywood and NOT 'making it' because he was too Black.  Don't misunderstand me, Paul Mooney is a legend.  This man wrote for the Richard Pryor Show, In Living Color, and the Chappelle Show.  As far as Black comedy goes, he's royalty.  Although he might not be mentioned with the likes of Jay Leno and Dave Letterman, it's not because he's not as funny as them, they just have the "complexion for protection."  While this book is Paul's autobiography, at times I feels like the biography of Richard Pryor, Mooney's best friend.  Now, I'm not complaining; while I've not seen much of Pryor's comedy, my father is a huge fan and Mooney is able to dive into the intricacies of Pryor's brain like no one else. 

At 70 years old, Paul Mooney has seen a lot of things.  But he's still standing, he's still funny, and he's still Black. 

Next up: Hunger Games 

Heat Wave

So last week in NYC we had a mini heat wave.  Well, you might not know this about me, but I don't do heat.  I don't do sweating.  I don't do smelling like 'outside' ... Heat waves are not for me.  It's especially difficult to figure out what to wear in NYC because you spend so much of your time outside walking.  And, since wearing a bikini top to work isn't 'corporate', I decided to go with the next best thing.

I got this lil number from H&M.  I love the colors, and it's a hi-lo dress, which I've been dying to try out.  I paired this dress with gold accessories to give it a lil pop.  Overall...I think I look gorgeous!

Because Instagram makes everything better

Dress: H&M

Necklace: Aldo

Shoes: Payless

Boobs

Disclaimer: This post will not actually have any pictures of boobs.

If you couldn't tell from my pictures, I'm a bit on the top-heavy side.  And because yall are my friends, I can speak honestly: yall gotta do better with your bras.  I'm tired of walking down the street seeing yall looking a mess!  So, here are Div's Rules to healthy, happy, perky breasts.

Rule #1: Your breasts should not greet me before you do; control those puppies.  

Rule #2: Get measured.  The statistic is something like 80% of women wear the wrong bra size.  And yall do!  I don't...because I get measure regularly.  Also, go to a reputable place; not Victoria's Secret.  Surprise surprise, Victoria's Secret is only concerned about getting you into their bras whether they fit or not.

Rule #3: Your straps should not dig into your skin.  There's nothing more unsightly then the dark brown strap marks from years of wear and tear.

Rule #4: Lift & Separate!  Your boobs and your belly button shouldn't be close friends.  Also, you shouldn't have more than 2 breasts.  Yall know what I'm talking about, the dreaded quad-boob and the often never seen, mythical sextuplet-boob. 

Rule #5: I don't care how small you are, ALWAYS. WEAR. A. BRA.

Ok, yall got it??

Cheesy Ham Casserole

Yall already know my love for bacon, but I'm also a fan of it's cousin, ham.  (Aight, I love all pork.)  Now, not that nasty deli ham but real, Sunday dinner, Christmas ham.  This is a recipe I've been making for years cuz it's easy and involves pretty much whatever is left over in your refrigerator.

Ingredients:

Leftover Ham

Rotini Pasta

Cheddar Cheese

Miracle Whip

Green Peppers (and or Onions, Corn, etc.)

Broccoli Cuts

1. Dice up your leftover ham, green peppers, onions, and broccoli

2. Cook your rotini

3. Add 4 dollops of Miracle Whip. (You might wanna go with light whip to avoid the future heart attack)

4. Add cheese

5. Now mix (You can top your casserole with cheese, french onions, or bread crumbs if you wanna jazz it up)

6. Bake at 350 degrees for 35 minutes

My Perfect Man

If I could put together My Perfect Man, what would he be like? Hmmm...

As funny as Chris Rock.

 A hustle like James Evans.

 A swagger like Barack.

A family man like Cliff Huxtable.

 As smart as Dwayne Wayne.

 

I think he'd look something like this guy right here.

Yep.  That's My Perfect Man right there.  Also known as my DADDY!

My Video Game

So I had this idea for a video game...patent pending (aka Don't Steal My S#!&).

Name: Tourist Trap
Setting: New York City
Main Character: Me, of course
Scenes: Times Square, Central Park, 125th St, Macys, Lower East Side, etc.

So the object of this game will be for the main character to make their way through the city and get to where they're going on time.  All the while, you have to avoid obstacles like tourists, strollers, homeless people, cabs and police barricades.

As in any video game, you have the option to get extra points.  You get extra points for pick pocketing tourists, giving money to the homeless, and crossing the street without getting hit by a cab.  You win each level by getting to your destination on time.

And of course you gotta have a bonus round.  The bonus rounds will be to see how many people you can stuff into a subway car or how many slices of deli meat you can stack on a Katz sandwich.

The final level of the game will be to successfully hail a cab as a Black person. (Welp, maybe that last level can use some more refining.)  Either way, somebody call Hasbro, I think I got a gem on my hands!

P.S. This video game was inspired by my frustrations walking through the city trying to get to work.  I often, in my head, make up little games as I walk down the street.  Stay tuned for my next video game "Is it a Rat or a Squirrel?" also inspired by real life events.

Mickey

Last Thursday, IT happened.

The IT that every girl fears.  The IT that every New Yorker dreads.  The IT that scares even elephants.

I heard. a mouse.

*faints*

I know...I was terrified.  I was working from home for the first time EVER when I heard a scratching noise.  Although I was praying I would find a bird dying on my windowsill alas, I did not.  I heard scratching.  IN my wall.  Only one thing scratches in your wall......mice.

Naturally, my first call was to my landlord.  I believe my conversation went like this:

Her: Hello
Me: There is a mouse in my wall, what are you gonna do about it?

You see, a mouse in your apartment is something New Yorkers live in constant fear of.  It's happened to almost every New Yorker I know.  An odd rights of passage if you will.  For the last 2 1/2 years I lived in a run down brownstone with a foundation made of silly putty.  This year, I move into a beautiful, well-maintained building and NOW the mouse comes?!  Ugh.

But, I decided to man up and attempt to take care of the mouse myself.  The next day, I went out & bought 2 traps, loaded them up with peanut butter then waited.  I just laid on the couch staring at the floor, waiting for mickey to make his final, macabre appearance.  But to my surprise, he never came AND the scratching stopped.

So, did I catch the mouse? Nope.  Did he run away before I had a chance to murder him? Prolly.   Either way, I never wanna see (or hear) a mouse again!

Div - 1 / Mouse - 0