Did you know that approximately 22 veterans die from suicide every day? In response to this epidemic, an organization called 22KILL aims to raise awareness for and aid in prevention of veteran suicide. Additionally, they help to re-integrate veterans into society by providing jobs and opportunities for them to give back to their communities. I learned about 22KILL through the Facebook page of a friend who is a Marine. He posted a video of he and his unit pledging to do 22 push-ups for 22 days to help raise awareness for veteran suicide. I think it’s shameful that the men and women who fight to protect our way of life, so often don’t have access to the medical and mental health treatment they so desperately need upon returning home. I wanted to do my part, however small, to help combat that.

So, here are my 22 pushups. Don’t laugh at my pushups. I had to do it twice because I wasn’t recording the first time. And I am puffy. So,¬†I was tired.

Watch and learn more about 22KILL, here:

Please share and get involved however you can! And to all veterans: Thank you for your service. I support you and am grateful for all you have done and continue to do.

Why, Lordt? And other questions I have for this white woman…

So, this happened.

Last Saturday, on my way up to The Berkshires for a show, I made a pit stop at Philiipsburg Manor–an historic site located in Sleepy Hollow, NY. In the 1800’s, it was a complex operated by a family of Dutch merchants who owned 23 enslaved Africans. Similar to Colonial Williamsburg, they offer tours where you can learn the little-known story of enslavement in the colonial north. I visited on this particular day because it was Pinkster–(a Dutch-turned-African-American holiday celebrated mainly in the Hudson Valley), and having just heard about it for the first time that morning, I wanted to learn more.

Here are a few photos from my tour of the manor. Scroll thru them right quick, so we can get back to the lady in this video.

Y’all finished? Or are you done? Either way, let’s get back to the issue at hand: how did this white woman end up with this responsibility? Was Keisha on break and she thought, “I did take an African Dance class that one Saturday, and I saw¬†the wedding scene in that Arsenio Hall movie about Africans like 2 times…I’ll fill in for you, Keisha!” I don’t have the words for what this is or how incongruous it felt¬†or how the black woman dancer who was dancing before her was looking at her while she was dancing or for how the drummers were smirking at me while I was giving¬†this white lady the big eyes… This is why the caged bird stopped singing; she had no more songs.

I love a good museum adventure, and learning about Pinkster was dope–especially because it was one of the very few times the enslaved were given time off. But this ish right here is why there should be a 15-20 minute limit for black people at historical sites having to do with slavery.

“But I didn’t even see the upstairs, yet. I’m gon’ get my full 14 dollars worth.”
“Ma’am, I think it’s best you head on out now, for your own peace of mind.”

Because at minute 21, some chit like this happens.

Ripped from the headlines

Or, you know, my text convos…

I just finished listening to game tape from¬†a set I did back on May 6 in Cincinnati. The audience was awesome and towards the end of the show, I asked them if they’d gone out¬†the night before for Cinco de Mayo. A bunch of them had, but no one seemed to know what the day actually signifies. So I told them what my friend Damon told me it was…

I cannot take credit for all the ignorance that comes out of my mouth; sometimes, I’m just the conduit. But this fool said, “Sing, sing, celebrate,” y’all. I hate¬†him for this. And you should, too.


I’m back


Today, I went to L’Oreal USA Headquarters so my girlfriend,¬†Cataanda, could give me the first real haircut I’ve had since most of them fell out about a year and a half ago. I wore braids for most of that time, in order¬†to allow¬†it grow without the stress of daily styling. And today, I reaped the fruits of my (lack of) labor; I L-O-V-E the cut!

Cataanda is¬†an equally amazing hairstylist, make-up artist and human being, with whom I’ve worked for about seven or eight years. She beat my face for Last Comic Standing, all my¬†headshots and she did my hair and makeup for the last season of Exhale.¬†I linked to her website because it’s the right thing to do, but I really don’t want to share her with y’all. Matter of fact, if I ever need an appointment and I find out one of y’all booked her, we’re fighting we fightin’. She’s the only person I trust with¬†my hair, now. When she wasn’t available one week last summer, I made an appointment with the stylist I went to all through high school…¬†Not only did he get scissor-happy, but he cut a chunk out of the right side of my hair–the hair I was trying so desperately to grow back. And then he and his co-worker¬†tried to convince me that it looked good–as if my giant eyeballs couldn’t see the mirror a foot in front of me. I swear it was like that episode of “Martin” where Gina forgets to put the neutralizer in Myra’s hair, and they try to convince her she looks beautiful bald.

"You gave Myra a perm with no neutralizer???"

“You gave Myra a perm with no neutralizer???”

But, I digress.

Me and Cataanda

Me and Cataanda

Cataanda is ALL the superlatives. And she totally gave me a 5th Avenue haircut at the homegirl rate. I feel like I’m back! It may not be feminist or India Arie-ist or whatever, but I always feel good about me when my hair is pretty.

And I feel good about me today.



I don’t know why the name of this bank bothers me so much, but for years, whenever I’m in the Midwest and see it, I wanna scream,? “REDUCE THE FRACTION!!!”¬†It¬†should be 1 2/3 bank.*¬†Per Wikipedia:

“Fifth Third’s unusual name is the result of the June 1, 1908, merger of Third National Bank and Fifth National Bank, to become the Fifth-Third National Bank of Cincinnati (the hyphen was later dropped).”

Well, you know what? That’s dumb. My friend Hanna¬†said that, since it was a merger, they should have just called it Eighth Bank. Because: addition.¬†I guess we should just be glad they didn’t call it 3/5 Bank. Because: slavery.

I bet¬†the Third National Bank people¬†fought to have their name first, though.¬†I bet they were all, “We were two national banks ahead of you! Our name should go first!!!”¬†I wonder how close they came to that¬†catastrophe. I’m willing to bet¬†they had all the stationery printed, bought the domain name (yes, in 1908)… and then a dude named Earl came in like,¬†Aww naw! Hell naw, man!”¬†**

I know nothing about the quality of services they provide, but I hate this bank.

*actual neuroses, not a joke.
*joke, not an indication of actual wiilingness to bet