The black jellybeans are sold separately. But equally.
You’d think — even if just for the month of February — that they’d let the black jelly beans live in the bag with the rest of the jelly beans…
I’m so glad Thurgood Marshall didn’t have to live to see this.
Here is the second installment in my Black History I’d Rather Forget series:
Name: He knows who he is (and so may some of you, so I won’t post his name).
History-Making Move: Came to my house to show off his brand new car and asked me if I wanted to go out. Drove me to the movies and purchased one (1) ticket. I will never forget it: “One for Event Horizon, please.” I bought my ticket and then put my purse in the seat between us. After the movies he took me to dinner and well… he took me there is all I can say about that.
The venue I was working at last nite in Harrisonburg, VA put me up in the Robert E. Lee room at the Stonewall Jackson Bed & Breakfast. And I didn’t have to make the beds OR breakfast. Cause I’m free.
The folks there were great and the place was super cute (see pics above). So cute, in fact, that I was willing to forgive the irony of management putting two Black comics up at the Stonewall Jackson Inn during Black History Month… But seriously folks, the whole time I was at the B&B all I could think was: This is why we celebrate Black History Month — to honor the people who fought and died to make it possible for me to be able to stay there and NOT be a servant. Because, real talk: he and his family probably owned mine (Jackson: Jackson). Sidebar, I’m not entirely sure I even know why I included that photo of me pretending to be asleep. But I guess maybe if old Stonewall is looking up at this from wherever he is now, he’d get a kick out of me napping at his crib.
YES!!! In de face!
I only want one thing for Black History Month. Come on Black People of America… Let’s get this done.
In honor of Black History Month, I thought it would be fun to post about some of the not-so-great guys I’ve dated. Because they are Black. And they are also history. I’ve also dated two Puerto Ricans. But I’m still cool with both of them. Perhaps I’ll write something nice about them during Hispanic Heritage Month. Or on whatever day the Puerto Rican Day Parade is.
But for now, on to today’s post:
Name: Andre
History-Making Move: He led me to believe I was his only girlfriend. According to his fiancée, I was not.
I’m headed to is the grocery store to find a more appropriate cheese for Black History Month.