Monthly Archives: February 2010

Good Morn or evening, friends … While I will not be bursting into a Stevie Wonder tune, I will however welcome you to a brand spankin’ new edition of Southern Fried Vocab! In case you didn’t catch us last week, click here and take a gander. You know ya’on to!
In case you’re not familiar with the rules, they go a lil’ something like this. You will be given a vocabulary word or phrase, a definition and a sentence. You are hereby challenged to go forth and use it in conversation.
Though you may not see a logical place to insert these words into conversation, everything is always better when you cover it in flour and drop it in some hot grease.
In honor of Black History Month, I will close out the month with the phrase John Brown.

Since slavery, black folks have been calling on his name and nobody's sure why.

Definition
John Brown: a white abolitionist who in 1859 led 25 men, black and white, on a raid at Harper’s Ferry in West Virginia. The plan was to raid the arsenal and arm local slaves with weapons. Their plan was thwarted, Brown and his men were all killed or captured within 36 hours.
John Brown is an adjective often preceded by the words, “I’ll be …” The phrase usually expresses surprise, anger, frustration and/or disgust trying to refrain from using profanity.

Example 1:
Boy to his mother after school: I got in trouble today.
Mother: Boy! I be John Brown! What did you do this time?!

Example 2:
Girl jumping on the sofa and hits her head on the coffee table. Her father runs in.
Girl: *sobbing*
Father: You ought to sit down somma the John Brown time! Lemme see it.
(Dead ass, ^^^ happened to me before)

Quick Review
John Brown was hanged in 1859 for trying to arm and eventually liberate slaves in Virginia. As a way to pay homage to his violent, yet noble acts, Black Southerners keep his name and legacy alive by invoking his name when trying to avoid profane language – I’m guessing.
*Sidebar* That’s the only thing that makes since because why would we use his John Brown name all the time?

… because I am just FULL of ideas (yes, that’s what I call it), I have decided to create a new feature about times and situations where I absolutely abhor (that’s a SAT Prep word) being single. I’ve decided to call it, “It sucks to be single when …”
Now, because I am a P. R. O. fessional at this being single business, I will share stories, both real and fictitious that break the meter on a scale from 1 to Suck. Got it? Good!

So, this week, I had the misfortune of battling with a virus and some upper respiratory thing that I was only allowed to take over the counter meds for thanks to the Damn Diabetes (yes, it’s clinical) and its equally sucky friend, Hypertension. *side eye to my wide butt*
While I was laying ass up on my couch with a trash can near my head, it occurred to me that I really, really need a boyfriend, but only part-time. Hear me out, now.
I’ve noticed that I only want a boyfriend when he would come in really, really handy. Like this week, I felt horrible. I couldn’t keep anything down. I was congested. I needed food, meds and a ride to the doc. My wonderfully awesome big sis stepped in and made a store run, called often and stopped by to check on me.
While I am greatly appreciative, she dropped off the bags and kept right on stepping – out of fear she’d catch the thing I had.
I forgot to ask her to take out my trash, so there are like three bags of it that I’m sure stank to be damned, but since I can’t smell, it’s not bothering me. I didn’t have time to ask her to take those movies back to Blockbuster that were due last Friday. She wasn’t around long enough to bring me a glass of water after I coughed up a lung.
It was only me with my lukewarm tea that didn’t have enough honey in it. Playing a video game that had long ago bored me but I was too weak to get up and turn it off or change it out. It would have been nice to have somebody fix me some soup and some ginger ale *BLECH* and take my temperature via the hand on the forehead.
Yea, so what I’m an adult and I like to be coddled and taken care of when I’m sick or hurt. I’m not ashamed. I make NO apologies for it. I’m just saying, it sucks to be single, know you want to be coddled and your parents are 250 miles away. It really sucks when there are not suitors, let alone any dude willing to risk his immune system to come and bring me bananas and applesauce.
See, this is where the part-time boyfriend would come in. He’d feed me, keep me company, take that damn trash out. Then, the next week, I’d take care of him and after that, we’d go our separate ways. Y’know, until I need my car washed or something. Then he could come over.
What?! I’d cook, too! I’m not a total douche!