Facts: Black Folks Can’t Have Shit

Shit

“Shit!”

Immediately, that’s what comes to my mind every time I see white media talk about “new shit”. Their “new shit” is just our everyday shit and we seem to be ok with giving it away. I KNOW that some kneegrow or Becky is going to come troll this post talmbout, “Wigs, blonde hair, weaves, chit’lins, The Running Man or the pyramids don’t belong to us. Please have a cold glass of shut the fuck up and let me proceed.

You’re welcome.

Black spaces seem to have become figments of our imaginations because at every turn, we are giving our essence away to anybody that asks for it. Jews, Asians, or Europeans don’t give up ANYTHING without a price and depending on the day- your race may or may not be a factor.

But not the happy ass nigras. We let anybody in our organizations. There is a reason why these organizations were started, remember? Fuck outta here. We give away our vernacular which at one point was a means of survival for us. We invite folks to our sacred places of worship while they take over and we are left with pale, stringy-haired Jesus. And there are those TRAITORS that are perfectly fine with letting these assholes bastardize whatever is black and holy.

Shit
Kylie Jenner looking mediocre as fuck with her pre-surgery face.

Damn.. we can’t even have braids, big lips or asses, twerking and “Bye Felicia”. Our white “friends” just came to the party uninvited as fuck and were like, “Oh that’s ghetto… why are you doing that?” And lo and behold, we get Kim and Khloe Kardashian with their shitty-diaper looking ass buttocks mounted on toothpicks. Or their once homely-looking, communion-wafer lipped baby sister- Kylie with a new batch of soup coolers and black is cool. Black excellence doesn’t shine nearly as bright as white mediocrity. Now whitesplain THAT. Hmmpf.

Correction: Black shit is cool just NOT black people.

Our blackness is endangered. Yet, we are explaining why “Becky” isn’t racist. Fuck Becky. We have white chicks crying and whining because we are excluding them from our “Lemonade” celebration. Because somehow they’ve established that even our fucking blackness isn’t OURS. They’ve rights to that too. It’s like our great- great grandmother’s milk with which they nourished their babies while ours starved. We can’t have shit.

You can’t go in an African dance class and see black people any more but you will get a room full of Becky’s and Biff’s imposing their whiteness on our history and culture.

I’m not here to play nice and invite you into my drum circle. Nope. Sitcho… wait. Sit your ass in the next room or go clog or something while me and my skinfolk work this out.

I’m not your..”Honey chile” or your fucking “Booboo”. In fact, even IF you heard me say it, DON’T REPEAT IT. We aren’t friends. (“W.A.C” to my brethren and sistren). Somebody is gonna ask what that means. I just know it.

There’s nowhere in the rulebook of life that states that we have to be inclusive. Stop that shit especially when we aren’t included in THEIR spaces. Fuck being your one black friend. I don’t need the headache. It’s time to let heads know that they are not invited and if we have a sell out in the bunch, they can sit outside with “Kate” and “Todd”.

K.

K. Araújo, a native Detroiter, is a cross between Claire Huxtable, Rosie Pérez and Millie Jackson. Widow, professional dragger of filth and Mami to the dopest Ethiopian EVER, she is the Editor in Chief of "Negra With Tumbao" and a Staff Writer for "The Urban Twist". Keka has been known to shake what her mama gave her, is the hell and high water, an expert salsera and cussologist with a penchant for the finer things in life and is and forever shall be- unapologetically black.