For the SIH devotional on this subject:
So many have multiple wardrobes in multiple houses.
While so many sisters have to rotate their one skirt and few blouses,
So many have multiple savings accounts and investment schemes.
while so many have only seen the inside of a bank in their dreams,
So many collect millions falsely and on it they thrive,
While so many can’t even access a small loan to help them survive.
When I review it all and when all is said and done,
There are some like me whose blessing may never be more than one.
I only have one mother who has given birth to me,
I only have one breath which I use each day for free.
I only have one salvation that Jesus bought with His blood,
And I only have one life which is hid with Christ in God.
I only have one job…
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Today’s rant and rave is to Ms. Beyonce Carter…
Dear Ms. Carter,
Must we be inflcited with you ongoing wailing about your drunken love with your husband. Have you heard the saying we don’t kiss and tell? The ongoing tale of how you and Mr. Carter “Go all night” is fine for an married couple. THe average couple would hope to kiss one another good night before the other falls a sleep. THe average person doesn’t have a 50 million dollar home that can be violated daily. And to think little “blu eats her Cherrios, off of the same counter you and Mr. Carter have… well, soiled. I don’t negate the talent, as it take great talent to hang upside down on a chair and sing. I will thank you for not twerking. We are much to old to twerk. We are subject to wind up in traction. I say this to raise the point on what sells. Is it the sexy wailing done with Mrs. Carter’s “Drunkin Love” or is it the fact we get a sneak peak into the private/not so private lives of the Carters.
I realize it has been some time since I wrote anything about my life. I mean, sure, I’ve shared my opinion on a few matters, gave away some condoms and engaged in general bitching, but I haven’t said much about my dating or sex life in a spell. Today, that changes.
I have an important announcement to make. I have recently joined the ranks of superdivas Cher, Madonna, Jennifer Lopez and Mariah Carey — and I’m not even an über fierce, over-the-top gay icon. But I might be now. Because I, my friends,have a boy toy. A hot one.
Sorry, J. Lo, mine’s hotter.
Mind you, by no means did I go out prowling the local Dave & Buster’s all couged out and draping my leg over the Full Throttle Zombie Mania 4D machine. The boy came to me — on OkCupid of all places.
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