aunt wendy taught me how to be media trained without her knowing.
there is some shit you say/font out loud and other shit you keep at the kitchen table.

kitchen table talk (v): when you are spilling tea with your people with the intentions of it staying between ya’ll and Jesus.

that is when you spill that you fucked someone and it was terrible or mind blowing,
or my personal fav:
“YOU FUCKED HIM?!?!?”

that being fonted i have A LOT of kitchen table font with my Foxholers.
i always ask if i can share because sometimes the tea is PIPIN’.
that being fonted:

many males,
especially straights,
love to talk and font for brownie points outside of kitchen table talk.

(ex)-boxing jackal,
adrien broner,
has allegedly fucked a lot of pretty attentionistas it seems.
he decided to expose everyone he fucked on his IG with “the toxic test“…

fonting of,
i was having a conversation with someone in the entertainment industry.
they are a pretty big deal in their field.
he sent me a VN talmbout:

“i really like what you are doing with your website.
you have a gift and you are so popular.
everyone knows you…”

stop right there.
…who are you talking too?

so i watched the “wicked for good” trailer and bawled.

the young me,
that frowned every time karaoke played the broadway soundtrack for the original “wicked”,
would judged at the current me.
tbh:

i hate i didn’t get into wicked sooner.

back then,
i was so concerned with fitting into spaces that never welcomed me,
i really missed a story that reflected my life back to me.

it’s funny how the things we react when we are ashamed of ourselves,
eventually come back to heal or teach us a lesson.

when i watched the first “wicked” movie last year,
i didn’t expect to relate to “the green one” so deeply…

our current president may have said:

“oh ya’ll gonna say i’m not a king and protest me?
well then i’m gonna do shit out of spite ya’ll azzez.
welcome to the art of a deal bitches!”

i had a feeling that the following would happen.
it is not shocking because when people show you who they are; believe them.
apparently,
a diddy pardon is on the horizon according to tmz…

when i asked cousin hybrid his thoughts on the recent nicki,
he said:

“she was never quite high above it to me.
she’s been telling ya’ll she’s crazy with roman lol”

it sat on my noggin for about bit.
i mean,
i get the roman alt and loved it but when did we all get so brain dead that we can’t see…

i didn’t realize empathy had died until i saw the crowd it drew.
influencers in black,
ring lights at the casket,
hashtags as eulogies.
somewhere between the reposts and the think pieces,
the human part of caring got lost.
everyone’s mourning but no one’s moved…

last night,
i was telling someone that 2025 has been the year of learning people.
they were grieving someone they loved that passed away.
someone who complained about how cruel folks were to them when they were alive.
those same jackals in 2025?

posting tributes
writing novels on all the socials
acting like they cared for clout

…but the one on the phone who actually stood by them?
they are being treated like a ghost.

these days,
a crisis only matters if it trends on tiktok.
if it becomes a 30-video saga with sad music and captions for sympathy.
we got people with typical ‘send love’ or ‘checking in’,
but disappear the second it gets inconvenient.
empathy out; self absorption in.
they WILL reappear if you win the lottery,
get nominated for an emmy,
or fuckin’ drop dead.

we’ve got a president who confuses pettiness for leadership and who thinks empathy is weakness.

…and i’m starting to realize more of us are like him than we care to admit.
that should hurt feelings.
so i can’t help but wonder…